Last day of the year...

Apocalypse 2012

...well so far this has been a rather dull Apocalypse. Maybe the problem is the lack of spontaneity in world-ending-events? It's sort of like waking up on Christmas to no presents...I mean, not seeing a horde of zombies or multiple mushroom clouds off in the horizon just makes for a very lackluster apocalyptic experience.

Better luck next time?

(And I refuse to even make a snide remark about the number of Christians who were actually concerned about this date. I would mention something about reading their Bible but what's the point when it's most likely being used as a dusty paper weight.)

Quote of the Day:

"How do I turn this into something I believe,
When it’s something I’ve been told and something I’ve been taught?
How do I turn this into something that I need?
I’ll be lavishly controlled and be someone that I’m not.

Believing in love, believing in hope, surrendering all of my will,
Believing in nothing is scary, believing in something is scarier still.

Believing in love, believing in hope, surrendering all of my will,
Believing in nothing is scary, believing in something is scarier still."
-Showbread, "Precursor" 

Dream a Little Dream

Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.

Pain.
Tired.
Wishing I could dream again.
Beauty of beauty,
be not too far from me. 

Sleep,
so exhausted.
I welcome oblivion.
More than I could have asked for.

It's a pity panic attacks are becoming far too expensive to have...

"Show me the way to go home
I'm tired and I want to go to bed
I had a little drink about an hour ago
and it went right to my head..."

Further proof God actively spites me?
This damnable facial hair.
Sandpaper.
That is what my face feels like.
That is what it feels like when ANYTHING touches it.
Yargh.
Almost, almost, almost as bad as a hangnail.

Fibromyalgia oversensitivity, you suck.

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 26

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-2012-day-26.html

Farewell 'Friendship'

A wonderful morning to be rid of old trash.
Cutting ties.
Letting go.
Remembering what it's like to smile because of true friendship.

Not fair weather uselessness.

All I can do is simply laugh.
What silly, silly people.

And what did they think I want?
More than a conversation?
Presumption silliness.

Time is passing,
fleeting
and increasing as the clock speeds bye.

I haven't had the time
but I must bid farewell.
Goodnight and goodnight.

Quote of the Day

“Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again."
-C.S. Lewis

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 17

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-2012-day-17.html

"I'll see you on that day
When I walk those last steps Your way
There's something moving in the shadows
There is that rumor of hope
When the Spirit starts roaring
For long we have but no longer will we cope
Love is personified
I'd rather die in love
Than stay alive numb

'Cause I'll still call it 
I'm still longing home

Where the sun never dies
Shine away my shadow
Where it's bright when I shut my eyes
I'll drink until I'm not thirsty
The sun never dies
Shine away my shadow
It's just waiting to rise"

Sort of weird to care so much but there be so little evidence or results.
And not even comments on stupid death inviting things.
Weird.

This is why I don't make idle self harm threats.
Or try to hurt me.
I hurt enough without effort.

"Nothing can stop me now because I don't care anymore"

Sick, Tired, Cellphones Suck

I was supposed to be in Chicago about three or four days ago.
Then money problems happened.
Then car problems happened.
Then cell phone problems happened.
And now I think I'm being revisited by some nasty stomach issues.

I'm going to go.
I have to try.
What do I have to lose when I have everything to gain?

I have to be responsible because some people need me...but I just want to cut those supports and fall.

Fall through the sky.
See the sun.
Touch the clouds.
Feel the wind rip at me.
The mist of breaking clouds.
All before crashing to the ground.

I'm trying to be the best Christian I can.
Prayer.
Study.
Love.
But I feel so weary, so worried, so broken Lord.
I know it's Your strength but it feels the more I pray the greater the burden.

I need You.
The End.
That is all.
Nothing else remotely matters.
Just that this gulf is crossed.
The emptiness filled.
Hope restored.
Beautiful Lord Jesus, whom I need every second.
Thank You.

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 16

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-2012-day-16.html

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 15

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-2012-day-15.html

"The curse is broken
Heavy burdens are lifted off
And my soul is light as a feather
In Your storm

Waves arrive like thunder
I'm not scared to end up under
Wash away my heartache that's
Creeping in
I'm not scared to loose my skin

I'm waiting for You
I always have
I'm waiting for You
And I always have"

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 12

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 11

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-2012-day-11.html

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 10

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-2012-day-10.html

More writing.
More updates.

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 8

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-2012-day-8.html

Another post.
Another day.
More progress.
Sort of.

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 7

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-novel-2012-day-7.html

It's a link.
Go read.
Or not.
Please?

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 6

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-2012-day-6.html

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day Five

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-2012-day-5.html

"You Will Die in a Prison" - Showbread

"sometimes i feel broken
and there are things that i never say to anyone
like sometimes i don't feel rescued
and sometimes i don't believe you love me at all

when i allow myself the fantasy that i might have made you proud
i feel ashamed

i honestly believe with all of my soul that you love the whole world
just maybe not me

it's not that i feel overlooked or that you've done me wrong
maybe at the end of the day, i just don't love myself

when i try to impress you i hate myself
and i could run better if i could stay on track
and every time i turn around, every time you welcome me back
it's hard to love someone so big and be someone so small
and i'm afraid that you're the one who thinks that i don't love you at all
but i do

you rend the veil that hides your face
you speak light into the dark
you've beaten back the hoards of death
you tear their crowns apart
no more aching and crying
you lift the burden of my shame
no more breaking and dying
you remember my name

(i can see it coming:)
the ill and the affirmed leave their sickness behind
all disease is crushed in defeat
the shadows shrinking back, disappear in the light
the paralyzed rise to their feet

the broken and oppressed overflow with joy
the abused become royalty
darkness and despair are banished for good
and death can find no loyalty

the tormented see peace in the fading night
and all the brokenhearted feel their hearts begin to mend
the lowercase gods are all crushed by the King
the hungry and the destitute will never go without again

war and poverty are vanquished
no pain, no suffering, no dismay
evil, death and all their friends are forever washed away

our faith in you will cry out for the day
our hope in you will not be misplaced
for now we see through a fogged piece of glass
but soon we will see face to face

you rend the veil that hides your face
you speak light into the dark
you've beaten down the hoards of death
you've torn their crowns apart
come Lord, come! let the last be first
wipe every tear from the face of the earth
put all wrongs to right
make everything new
the cancer of death is defeated by You"

Broken Glass, Wandering Around

I catch myself looking in the mirror.
The tired eyes hiding behind long hair.

Who is there?
Stranger.

Eyes weary beyond their time,
soul leaking fluid
and the pitter patter
of broken relationships.

What is this?
Traitor.

Uncut stubble,
bleeding scrapes on forehead
prizes of a night life
untold quests of thirst.

The ache in my head
is only matched
by the hunger of my spirit.
The thirst in my throat
only matched
by the need of my spirit.

Twilight falling,
darkness is coming soon.
Hope abounding
despite the screaming
and the aching.

Well I feel like a horrible person for reasons that most likely no one who reads this blog will ever know or understand...except to say that I do not like who I am when I am on certain medications.

Or are they just revealing me?

The stuff I tried hiding?

It's like a sick joke.

I can't get the vomit taste out of my mouth.

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 4

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-2012-day-4.html

Yay.
A link.
That you should go read.
Go you.

Healing Hope

I did good stuff today so that should be worth something...right?
Hope.
Hope.
Hope.

Painful dreaming of Love.
My Lover.
Strength and Grace unfathomable.

Oh Lover,
Love me.
Broken, lost and weary as I am.

Emotionally I'm drained
and spirtually so worn,
like stone after so much water.

But hope.
Hope never ending.
Hope never dying.
Hope that healing exsists
and all will be revealed.

Nanowrimo 2012 Day 2

Here is the update:

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-day-2.html

Thanks for following.
You people are rad.

Cue feeling like a terrible person.
Hooray!

Ouchie.
My insides are severally disagreeing with me.

I'm hoping against hope.
But isn't that what I do already?

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 1

Too much work to get the damn embeded video working, just follow the bloody link:

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-2012-day-1.html

Being Human

Sometimes I loathe being human.
Yes.
This is directed to You.

Why these emotions?
Feelings?
Desires?
Wants?
Needs?
Longings?

Why do I miss something?
Why do I miss someone that will never reply to me again no matter how hard I try to get in touch with her?

I don't know where lines are.
Or maybe I do not care.
This may be Your mercy.
Keeping me from digging holes deeper than I can ever hope to get out of.

But the sheer frustrating.
The ache of my soul.
The absence.
The pain.

It's not just one person.
It's being.
Being.

I know, I feel in my bones there is reason.
That even when the shroud separating this world from the next is torn down, like on that Friday, things will be made whole.
Healing.

But until then.
This mountain.
Then the next.
Until I reach the place You want.
A second coming.
Or my death.
Whichever comes first.

I trust this isn't just some parade of fools.
But I cannot carry this heavy heart alone.

If there is such thing as a writing hangover this must be what it feels like... @_@

NANOWRIMO 2012 - Day 0

What am I doing?
A sixth novel when I haven't revised any of the others besides the occasional prod.
Don't I have a half dozen papers to write?
A dozen or so books to read already?

What is it that drags me back every November for this event?
What makes me act as ridiculous with novel writing as I do by being a Christian?

There is some bizarre mixture of faith involved with religion and art.
I'm too busy and tired to really dig deep but really, the hope burning and bursting to be released from my heart is a nice counter to the darkness that seems to always prevail and win in this world.

I have multiple people remind me every year that I need a sanity.
How could writing a fifty thousand word first draft help?

If you haven't done it, if you've never made a piece of art...then I'm not sure you can ever understand.
Art, Faith, Philosophy and Love are this bizarre mixture inside of me I cannot and refuse to seperate or try to dissect with science.

Yeah something about chemicals, reactions and hormones but every writer is seeking Truth.

It may just be what the character will do next.
Trying to meet a word quote.
Making something to entertain others.
Or maybe like me trying to find some sort of self and existentialist affirmation in creating something that is outside of me, that the insanity of my faith/art are valid.

We all have stories.
But there is so much fear.

This quote rings with me:

 "Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a shitty first draft. I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won't have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren't even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they're doing it.”

― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life"
Some people write for others.
Some write for themselves.
But those who write must write.
It doesn't have to make sense to you.
Mostly it doesn't make sense to me.
And sometimes God sends a small mist of grace that helps things make more sense.

Here is to insanity.
Here is to writing.
And here is to ripping off the masks we hide behind and start trying to embrace our art, ourselves and all that we hold dear.

-Matt

Migraine lessened slighty...read...write...read...write!!!

Quote of the Day

"All these evils I have fought, while you have done nothing but observe! True, I am guilty of interference. Just as you are guilty of failing to use your great powers to help those in need!”
— The Doctor

Oh well.
No luck there.
But my head hurts freaking much!
Hooray!

If I can't go to church then I am going to help someone online dammit.
Nothing is going to stop me from helping SOMEONE today and being some sort of a positive influence or at least someone who will listen. 

Feeling better I think.
I just wish I could go to church.
I've been two weeks in a row...it's like a drug.
Community, fellowship, realizing you aren't just insane...but there are OTHERS who are serious in believing these absurdly impossibly wonderful things about first century Jewish Rabbi Carpenter who claimed to be God.

SIck and Music for the NIght

Severe stomach pain, nausea, what feels like a fever, violently stomach sickness...yeah I found a bug some how.

So I'm listening to what kept my ahead afloat in China.

Blindside.

The Great Depression.

So much raw emotion and spiritualness.

Next up is "With Shivering Hearts We Wait"

Empath Geyser

After crying a while I feel better.
I think the tension of the past year...and events over several months have just continued to build...and empathy explosion of emotion that I have absorbed and just did not know what to do with.

Something to work on...to find healing with...if this isn't just a curse...

Geekery and Halloween

For two glorious hours I stood in the Doctors shoes at this bizarre crossways of faith and geekery.

Actually being noticed, complimented, encouraged and all of the worldly (or maybe not always) stuff I try so hard not to want because I never know where the line is....all the way I was being the hands and feet of Jesus by trying to help organize some stupid and frivolous way to help raise food for the hungry when I either can't get a real job, a single fucking hour at work or even manage what little money gets put in my hands.


So much irony.
Help others.
Can't even pull my life together.
Feels the harder I push the harder I'm pushed back into the ground with force.
Demons screaming in my face.
Making me feel every nerve cell in my body scream in pain as I just do NOT know what to do.




I wore a mismatched pairing of vest, shirt, trousers, shoes, hat, curly hair and 12 foot long scarf and I realize how much I hate my normal everyday life.

How painful existing can be.
I just want to be special and have meaning.

To wear this scarf and people KNOW who I am, the encouragement and smiles and actual shared laughter instead of just feeling like total and incomprehensible garbage.


Meaningless garbage.

I am so alone.
So scared.
And hurt.
Lonely and need a hug.
But so scared of it all at the same time

The most frustrating thing about being upset is realizing the futility of it.
Raging.
Crying.
Sobbing
Punching this stupid pillow.
Meaningless.
The pain continues.
And hurts so fucking badly.

Cards, costumes, geekery, a chance to be Jesus to people who couldn't care less and yet somehow I was able to make an impact.

And I feel so powerless.

It was a mini-con and I can't even afford the gas money to drive back after having to leave early. It is so frustrating and NOTHING can change reality.

Nothing can change the fact it's over and gone for me and here I am stuck with this present that I never asked for or wanted but here it came as some unexpected delivery and I am supposed to seize it.

How?

How do I open the package and door of positibility when I didn't even want it in the first place?

My life hurts.
My soul aches.
It burns and screams to be finally free of Sin which is rotting me from the inside out.
And one day be free.
Be made whole.
No more of this emptyness.
This neediness.
This collapsing.
This sickness.

But never ending intimacy and joy.
One day.
One day.

I feel so inadequate and stupid about not being able to actually find and get work.
Much less handle money.
It's a wonder I've made it this far by people being willing to drag or support me.
Self sufficiency isn't impossible but feels like some dream.
While I'm caught in this nightmare of false promises.

Annnnnnnd migraine.
Still.
I think this is either day eight or day nine.
Woo!

I could use some Tylenol.
Maybe some Bayer Aspirin   .

Proverbs 25

Dross.
Silver being drawn.
Will comment more on later.