Monday, October 13, 2008
Galatians 1
v.6: I can't believe your fickleness - how easily you have turned traitor to him who called you by the grace of Christ by embracing a variant message! It is not a minor variation, you know; it is completely other, an alien message, a no-message, a lie about God.
I am quite agitated by my own fickleness about what I believe. I am angry with how caught up with myself, I am. I'm so frustrated and annoyed and I just almost want to scream.
Some sort of security in You would be nice but I don't even remmeber how to go about finding that anymore.
v.11-12: If my goal was popularity, I wouldn't bother being Christ's slave. Know this - I am most emphatic here, friends - this great Message I delivered to you is not mere human optimism. I didn't receive through th e traditions, and I wasn't taught it in some school. I got it straight from God, received the Message directly from Jesus Christ.
I have trouble believing anymore, so many things seems simply relative but deep down I know your truth and love you. I'm just worn out and exhausted. I need some sort of renewing, some revival of my decaying spirit.
Music is a language all to itself and the words you sing make me strive to live again. Please do not let me die here Father, please keep loving an evil and uncaring fiend like me. I need You.
Now I've come to a final sleep
I pray that forgiveness is mine to keep
I know it's hard to forgive this man
Driving the failure into your hands
-"Fading Away", Demon Hunter
I am quite agitated by my own fickleness about what I believe. I am angry with how caught up with myself, I am. I'm so frustrated and annoyed and I just almost want to scream.
Some sort of security in You would be nice but I don't even remmeber how to go about finding that anymore.
v.11-12: If my goal was popularity, I wouldn't bother being Christ's slave. Know this - I am most emphatic here, friends - this great Message I delivered to you is not mere human optimism. I didn't receive through th e traditions, and I wasn't taught it in some school. I got it straight from God, received the Message directly from Jesus Christ.
I have trouble believing anymore, so many things seems simply relative but deep down I know your truth and love you. I'm just worn out and exhausted. I need some sort of renewing, some revival of my decaying spirit.
Music is a language all to itself and the words you sing make me strive to live again. Please do not let me die here Father, please keep loving an evil and uncaring fiend like me. I need You.
Now I've come to a final sleep
I pray that forgiveness is mine to keep
I know it's hard to forgive this man
Driving the failure into your hands
-"Fading Away", Demon Hunter
Paper Tree
Blank pages flutter down from the shelves.
I knew them but never believed in them.
It's not like I was anything else but me
but here I am.
Life unwritten and hungry for some meaning.
Every word I try to speak gets caught up in my throat,
my heart being ripped out by these sentiments.
Looking at you in that cage,
that horribly metaphorical coffin,
I can't help but remmeber everything I have lost.
Every pain, every tear and every drop of blood
and you have the nerve to pretend everything is okay.
It isn't enough for you to spit on the graves
but then you have to crawl in.
It's not like we didn't hear your moans
and your slight effort at being a saint.
But we simply didn't care for someone so fake.
The pages fall like rain
and I forget simple words.
Basic patterns for life elude
because here I am, just me, waiting.
Waiting for what?
It is this steady rhythm of life.
Distortion in the sky and clouds swell in the sky,
ready to pour their anguish onto the land.
These words cannot redeem or salvage a shred of hope.
They will never restore dignity or placate a broken trust.
It is just these unnerving white papers,
devoid of deliberate purpose
and your touch.
I want to go home.
I knew them but never believed in them.
It's not like I was anything else but me
but here I am.
Life unwritten and hungry for some meaning.
Every word I try to speak gets caught up in my throat,
my heart being ripped out by these sentiments.
Looking at you in that cage,
that horribly metaphorical coffin,
I can't help but remmeber everything I have lost.
Every pain, every tear and every drop of blood
and you have the nerve to pretend everything is okay.
It isn't enough for you to spit on the graves
but then you have to crawl in.
It's not like we didn't hear your moans
and your slight effort at being a saint.
But we simply didn't care for someone so fake.
The pages fall like rain
and I forget simple words.
Basic patterns for life elude
because here I am, just me, waiting.
Waiting for what?
It is this steady rhythm of life.
Distortion in the sky and clouds swell in the sky,
ready to pour their anguish onto the land.
These words cannot redeem or salvage a shred of hope.
They will never restore dignity or placate a broken trust.
It is just these unnerving white papers,
devoid of deliberate purpose
and your touch.
I want to go home.
More Mindlessly Self Indulgent Ramblings
I really wish I was not a jerk.
Really, I sort of disgust myself when I stop to look at myself. How long have I been living this incredible self indulgent lifestyle?
It's like...I want to run away from anything that could be misconstrued as being real...whether it be in work, purpose or most frightening...relationships.
What does it mean to be Matthew Pike?
Ask me that and my initial response will most likely be some random and horrible attempt at dark humor. "That guy who acts like he is something but he is nothing.", "Isn't he that moron who keeps giving me a headache" or my personal favorite "Wasn't he recently voted most likely to be cause of the apocalypse?".
They make me chuckle because I have no sense of taste.
If I could stop with the stupid jokes for longer than five minutes I would stop and realize how funny it is not, especially to those who happen to be in a position of caring about me.
People can only stand being around a black hole of hope and life for so long...and you know, the ironic thing is I just made the stupid self depreciating gesture. Again.
Why does honesty have to be so painful much less so terrifying?
Could I not just be myself longer than a few minutes or must I put up yet another mask so no one (much less myself) will see me for the human I am.
How can I pull all of these loose threads into some sort of coherent understanding?
I want to be understood but at the same time the very thought of being wanted and accepted scares me, it scares me deeply. I want to hide behind other people because it would mean that I will not have to take responsibility.
Just to clarify, I do run from responsibility but at the same time I do understand the necessity of actual work. I haven't just been hiding behind a facade, I have and am experiencing extreme abdominal pain and organs and stones have been removed from my body.
It hasn't been a field day.
I haven't been able to concentrate on even completing any personal projects with the months of freedom while trying to heal because of how constantly stressed out I am.
Home life is acting as a bottomless well of stress, factor in the fact I've almost died because of medical stuff and because of the efforts of someone wanting me to die, throw in the fact I am feeling very torn about the prospect of love and ever being able to be married, I am feeling very distant from God and that we are so far apart right now, I feel as if my very breath is a toxin that is tainting the world, I feel like my purpose is to exist and contribute to the pain flowing through the world, I feel the need to constantly hate myself because of the lack of perfection, I see the perfection of Your love but see the shallow and disgusting grave that my love creates.
All of these factors mean something, they are part of something bigger that I cannot understand. I like to act and put on a show as if I understand but to be perfectly honest I do not know.
It kills me to know that I am so limited in everything.
I wish I could stop being a prick long enough to love my family and be loved by them. It scares me. I can't stand visiting certain friends anymore because they have a home life set up and that feeling is scary. It is unnerving to be an environment of love and acceptance and being wanted.
Being here is like having my lungs constantly compressed, my heart constantly placed in a vice grip, it is as if I receive this constant reassurance that I am a failure incapable of love and that I should not even try.
The thing is, except for a few extreme events that happen every few months nothing really happens. It is just this. This dank and tangible darkness that I am part of.
It feels like I am being swallowed whole by it, it's been a part of my life since I was born and I had escaped it for a few months by going to Mobile for college but really it never left my side.
It's like a deep infection that burns through the night and keeps me awake, it stops me from wanting to go to church, makes me unable to take criticism and much less jokes from family members, it makes me want myself to be permanently damaged and choose to hate me.
There are so many other complicated words, thoughts and feelings in all of this but ultimately I just longed to be loved as me but more than that I want to be moved out of this pit, this desperate hate that consumes me.
Really, I sort of disgust myself when I stop to look at myself. How long have I been living this incredible self indulgent lifestyle?
It's like...I want to run away from anything that could be misconstrued as being real...whether it be in work, purpose or most frightening...relationships.
What does it mean to be Matthew Pike?
Ask me that and my initial response will most likely be some random and horrible attempt at dark humor. "That guy who acts like he is something but he is nothing.", "Isn't he that moron who keeps giving me a headache" or my personal favorite "Wasn't he recently voted most likely to be cause of the apocalypse?".
They make me chuckle because I have no sense of taste.
If I could stop with the stupid jokes for longer than five minutes I would stop and realize how funny it is not, especially to those who happen to be in a position of caring about me.
People can only stand being around a black hole of hope and life for so long...and you know, the ironic thing is I just made the stupid self depreciating gesture. Again.
Why does honesty have to be so painful much less so terrifying?
Could I not just be myself longer than a few minutes or must I put up yet another mask so no one (much less myself) will see me for the human I am.
How can I pull all of these loose threads into some sort of coherent understanding?
I want to be understood but at the same time the very thought of being wanted and accepted scares me, it scares me deeply. I want to hide behind other people because it would mean that I will not have to take responsibility.
Just to clarify, I do run from responsibility but at the same time I do understand the necessity of actual work. I haven't just been hiding behind a facade, I have and am experiencing extreme abdominal pain and organs and stones have been removed from my body.
It hasn't been a field day.
I haven't been able to concentrate on even completing any personal projects with the months of freedom while trying to heal because of how constantly stressed out I am.
Home life is acting as a bottomless well of stress, factor in the fact I've almost died because of medical stuff and because of the efforts of someone wanting me to die, throw in the fact I am feeling very torn about the prospect of love and ever being able to be married, I am feeling very distant from God and that we are so far apart right now, I feel as if my very breath is a toxin that is tainting the world, I feel like my purpose is to exist and contribute to the pain flowing through the world, I feel the need to constantly hate myself because of the lack of perfection, I see the perfection of Your love but see the shallow and disgusting grave that my love creates.
All of these factors mean something, they are part of something bigger that I cannot understand. I like to act and put on a show as if I understand but to be perfectly honest I do not know.
It kills me to know that I am so limited in everything.
I wish I could stop being a prick long enough to love my family and be loved by them. It scares me. I can't stand visiting certain friends anymore because they have a home life set up and that feeling is scary. It is unnerving to be an environment of love and acceptance and being wanted.
Being here is like having my lungs constantly compressed, my heart constantly placed in a vice grip, it is as if I receive this constant reassurance that I am a failure incapable of love and that I should not even try.
The thing is, except for a few extreme events that happen every few months nothing really happens. It is just this. This dank and tangible darkness that I am part of.
It feels like I am being swallowed whole by it, it's been a part of my life since I was born and I had escaped it for a few months by going to Mobile for college but really it never left my side.
It's like a deep infection that burns through the night and keeps me awake, it stops me from wanting to go to church, makes me unable to take criticism and much less jokes from family members, it makes me want myself to be permanently damaged and choose to hate me.
There are so many other complicated words, thoughts and feelings in all of this but ultimately I just longed to be loved as me but more than that I want to be moved out of this pit, this desperate hate that consumes me.
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