Quote of the Day:

“Humankind cannot bear very much reality.”
-T.S. Eliot

When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fucking special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here

I don't care if it hurts
I want to have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul
I want you to notice when I'm not around
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell I'm doing here?
I don't belong here

She's running out the door
She's running out
She runs runs runs

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here
I don't belong here

Pain and the Frail Gifts from a Forked Tongue

If feelings can be ripped, torn and destroyed
then why do they persist to nag my heart?
Such lies, such pain, such frailty of conviction
and I morn this loss?

A fool and bastard I am,
of every sense
cut off and rejected,
thrown back to the pile of filth
and hate that courses through my veins.

Do you see this blood,
the sins of my past
passing and moving in shadows
crying out to I,
a cry that I should cut
and let blood pour
staining this grass
that has been my bed
in these stages of delirium.

Do you know hast?
Do you know hate?
Frailty that reeks
of a stench of rottenness
that all I ever was told
were mere lies,
pleasing to the speaker
and knives which rake upon my heart,
such a dark and deprave coal
that is no thing more than I.

Do you see this tripe,
this disgusting
verbose vomit?

I am but a creep
such a lowly insect
with a festering wound
just out of my reach.

Can I blame a nymph
for her sins
of being as she is?

Tis unbecoming of a man
to blame problems on others
when the problem was me
and all I can say is I will stand
and might die with dignity,
dignity that left the house of my father
and here I am.

Blood that is mud in my veins
and horror upon horror,
I know not the story
nor can I handle it.

I wish to be more, be more than I am
but it is nothing you will see
for my heart is closed.
This demon seed has been planted
and it crystallizes
and become a diamond.

Rough, hard, unbreakable
for your tendrils have grown deep
and all that I pull
makes the pain worse
and soon you will have a marker
if you care to dance upon
the tomb that will hold
these rotting bones.

Hold a mirror up
maybe hold it close
to see the bones under the makeup
and hollow the promises of a woman are made
such vain lies
I ate and dined on
for I believe the impossible
forgetting that fantasy
will never be reality.

Trust,
faith,
honor,
respect
such laughable terms
amounting to nothing more
than diarrhea of the mouth,
such a revolting pile of shit
that I only have myself to blame for.

I crushed and destroyed bridges
just for something that was a lie.

Bitter?
I?
Nay, just one whose virgin eyes
were ripped open
by the gaping hole in my soul
and for daring
to open my heart to such fables,
such indiscriminate lies.

Look closely,
count the vowels
and see the pain in every symbol
every frail postulate
as it may be my last.

These words must burn,
must face the fire of correction
for the only fool as me
in and out
in and out
and soon to say goodbye.

Do not blink
for you may miss my exit,
crashing and burning
and unable to cope
with how harsh reality is
and shall ever and forever be.

It is, it is.
Thank you for it,
thank you for the pain
because I feel grace
where I would not have.
You ripped me apart
calling my life sin
and demonstrating
every fault
and every sin
making me see
and feel why humanity
should be purged,
ripped from our place.

Why such games?
Such a Divine Madman
holds back
not destroying us
and yet here we are.

Goodnight, good bye
and fare well.
Do not let the door hit you
as you leave
and know there is no return
and never a second chance.

This heart is closed.
A diamond forged
from the pressures and pain.
See the caricature you created
but do not touch the strings,
they are nothing more
than rusted barb wire,
created in the tumble and fall from grace
and rusted from the bitter hot tears
I was told to never share.

Good riddance to a waste of space,
farewell to my ocuping this pain.
I do not want this
and refuse to carry it any more.

Shadow boxing
and fighting my own shadow
because I am who I am.

I can handle being single
because I have to.
I refuse to lead others on
and crush them and treat them
as play things
just to increase my self worth
and because I can stand the silence.

Having my dad and grandmother
ripped from me
by distance, disease and death
just made me darker
made me more silent
and forced me to abandon the lie
that the good people get rewarded.

We will stand, fight
and die horrible deaths.
Not for a stupid gold road
or mansions
but to be held and have our tears wiped away
by one bigger
so much more beautiful than you can know.

Pain is what opens the path to God,
sin costs blood
and I would bleed all of mine now
just to be closer
to feel the love I scarcley believe is true.

Maybe in several thousand years
of healing
of pergutory
and grace making me new
I can look in your eyes and not feel pain,
not see the rejection
and contempt for the bastard I am.

Goodnight,
farewell,
let the pain be as it will be
for I am who I am.

Broken, bloodied and dying
but more alive now
than I ever was.

I think I enjoy writing and playing villains because it allows me to tap into a really dark side of myself that I normally do everything I can to avoid showing or being a part of.

However...mad genius is at work here...

Quote of the Day:

"Fanaticism consists of redoubling your effort when you have forgotten your aim."
—George Santayana

"the farther I fall I'm beside you
as lost as I get I will find you
the deeper the wound I'm inside you
for ever and ever I'm a part of

you and me
we're in this together now
none of them can stop us now
we will make it through somehow
you and me
if the world should break in two
until the very end of me
until the very end of you

all that we were is gone we have to hold on
when all our hope is gone we have to hold on
all that we were is gone but we can hold on

you and me
we're in this together now
none of them can stop us now
we will make it through somehow
you and me
even after everything
you're the queen and I'm the king
nothing else means anything"

Yes.

I am that guy who will go do something or get something at 2am, 11pm of any other absurd when I already have a half million things to do.

I'll even do it without so much as a thanks.

Just because of love.

I want to learn how to love even those I do not know...those whom I hate with that passion...but even more so, the same passion God has for the lost sheep and the ones who have become wolves and preying on other sheep.

Even if it means taking a Shepard's staff and striking to protect the innocent and those being preyed upon.

I want to show love that is beyond my capacities and beyond my beliefs and is straight from the lips of Christ.

Why is it so easy to be angry...bitter, jealous...feeling these rush of beings at once.

There is good, wonderful and beautiful things in life...

It is just hard to see things from before...with a more naive approach.

I suppose the trick is learning to not trust, trying to give everything in the right manner to find an ace to keep up your sleeve...

Time to mentally check out of reality to do some serious writing...

Certain people...yeah...certain people.

Being alive is nice though.
Woo.

So much joy and apathy spun into one day...

Quote of the Day:

"No, no, no way, Reinette Poisson? Later Madame D'Etoiles, later still mistress of Louis XV, uncrowned Queen of France? Actress, artist, musician, dancer, courtesan. Fantastic gardener! ...I'm the Doctor, and I just snogged Madame de Pompadour!"
-The Doctor

*Brain explodes*

After both playing and running tabletop games for over a decade this comic made me laugh and cringe just because of how often scenarios like this actually arise:

http://www.darthsanddroids.net/episodes/0098.html

Quote of the Day:

"Grand Viziers were always scheming megalomaniacs. It was probably in the job description: 'Are you a devious, plotting, unreliable madman? Ah, good, then you can be my most trusted advisor.'"
—Terry Pratchett

It is sort of morbidly humorous to see people throw God around as being the cosmic cause for their incredibly idiotic effects.

I suppose there is always someone else to blame...what good would taking personal responsibility do anyway...right?

Part Time Messiah

I really thought I said I was done with this gig.

I drew a line, marked it out and said "No more. No more trying to carry the world, much less any of its stupid little apes that managed to get themselves in trouble and decide to come crying to me."

After all, what can I do?

I can barely contain the insanity swirling in and out of my soul...emotions, thoughts, feelings, chemical reactions, physical actions...insanity day in and day out...so what can I do?

I do not care.

I have tried to do everything and have ended up doing nothing...I am not writing the world off but I am writing the parasites away.

I willingly bleed my soul out to people who are not even worth my trust...so why should I whore my time, soul, sanity and well being just to hear someone bitch and moan about how terrible their life is?

I am human.
I am a sinner.
I, for reasons beyond my understanding, am a sinner saved by grace.

But by no stretch of the imagination does that make me perfect, some sort of all knowing guru who is going to sacrifice his well being for the greater good.

I am no one's hero.
I am barely ranking as an antihero.
I would fit much more comfortable in the ranks of being an apathetic villain.

And yet Jesus calls to me to lay down my arms, lay down my pain, my rage, my anger...my everything and follow...to where?

I do not know.
I do not know so much...and yet the love, the grace, forgiveness...so many things I take for granted, I forget, I throw back into the heavens when I just stop caring and break down...

I am loved.
Even when I am enraged and unlovable, when I do not show grace and I hurt people's feelings...when I back stab them and then I narcotize myself with apathy, uncaring and abject ed hated.

Even when I do not know what to do and I fail.
I am loved, love so dearly, chased after and longed for by some sort of Divine Madman that really should know when to quit...but He never has.

I'll never know why.

But that is okay.

I am loved.

Quote of the Day:

"That old saw about 'to understand all is to forgive all' is a lot of tripe. Some things, the more you understand the more you loathe them."
-Robert A. Heinlein

With all of my complaining, whining and general negativity...there is so much horror, so much pain in this world that my problems are reduced to the insignificant little nothings they really are.

Seeing, hearing, feeling the pain running through the eyes and souls...

And I realize that I do not know how to pray.

Millstones for Sell

The chords around my neck
are starting to choke
wrapping tight
and cutting me off
from whatever else is in this world.

The absence in me
is this gaping hole
this want to be loved
and maybe just accepted
but
I'm not sure it ever mattered
because
if I was loved
would there be this gap
from where you left?

It feel so stupid
to pray
and write letters
so someone so far gone
that I do not think
and maybe I even know
I will never see again.

Why speak of fair
and cry out in pain
to a God
who only seems
to move
only as needed...

My faith may be weak
and bloodied
with so many broken bones
but hope still prevails
moving within me.

I don't have words
and I never will,
no one can understand
nor want to feel
this void
that ever is a part of me.

Maybe in the next Age
the healing will come,
every tear will be wiped away
and the screaming pain
may just subside.

Until then I will walk the shadows,
moving in and out life
as I look,
pray for hope
and falter in step.

The exceptionally sad thing is that the person who actually bothers to believe my lies is me.

Yeah.

Sad.

Quote of the Day:

"...but the cruelest thing you can do to an artist is tell them their work is flawless when it isn't."
-Ben "Yahtzee" Croshaw

I just want to stop hurting.
Is that too much to ask?

Faith and hope are bone weary, running out and so tired.

Does it matter?

So many questions, too much time and so much exhaustion.

Hope is there, just too tired and too weak to move.

Sunday was one of the most peaceful evening I have had in months..if not years.
Even just with watching Doctor Who, it was nice to feel apart of something more real that may last word may be the more illinoformed

Quote of the Day:

"The religious persecution of the ages has been done under what was claimed to be the command of God. I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do to their fellows, because it always coincides with their own desires."
-Susan B. Anthony


http://www.thelizlibrary.org/undelete/library/library005.html

God...please give me relief from the pain and nausea...please...

Another, Another

So far...and yet so close.
The foolish rhymes of yesterday
falling out of sync.

An evening amongst familiar company
and it is curious
how the simple
and what many call mundane
is what helps me hang on.

Laughter, embraces
and even a hand holding a hand
all just are milestones
mixed with grace
on this long
and convoluted journey.

It is so hard
just to recall
what it was
that started
me on this trip
and finding my way
back to this school.

I struggle to believe in love
and the fading hope
that love still believes in me.

I was able to impart
and give some comfort
providing some security.
Just another fleeting moment
but one of the few moments of grace
in this year of Hell.

I have already lost so much
and yet
I know the worst is to come.
It may be cowardly to run
but I would flee
in order to preserve
if not just outright protect
those who suffer because of me.

Fleeting
just passing by
the waves rolling on
and pulling at me
summoning me to dive
and never return to the surface.

Just another passing moment
on this time of life,
shades and shadows,
passing and fleeting
and watching the sun spiral
into its everlasting decay.

I am.
I am.

Evidently I am so exhausted right now that I was able to read some comments in German and it made perfect sense.

Which is awesome considering I have absolutely no working knowledge of German.

Lovable Loser Syndrome

These people do not want truth.
They want to be coddled and patted on the back.
They want reassurance that the screams of the dying and damned outside their door is just a radio stuck on static.

Compassion and empathy are dirty words whereas complacency, self-righteousness and pleasure are their drugs of choice.

I would rather be living in this pain, feeling the screams of pain rip through my nerve cells and die trying to change the world...then lay here in numb apathy.

I may loose every relationship, every friendship...every companion may prove to be unfaithful, untrustworthy and keen to stab me in the back...but if I can simply die having been faithful to the call I can ask for nothing more.

If need be I will find solace in You alone.
If I loose all of these and must limp and crawl alone this stretched path...I will.

I have lost everything and felt my soul rip apart several times already...it just eventually gets to a point where I no longer give a damn about being loved by people. I am an attention starved person who will perform simply to have some iota of confidence build up...but at the end of the day it's not worth it...nothing in this world is worth the sacrifice and the pain.

God, the pain.
It will come and go.
I will handle it as I must.
Luckily I do not star as a hero or main character.
I will never have my face on a poster or an action figure in my image.

Just as well.
There are no heroes.
All humans do is fail and create more problems.
Problems that cause pain.
Problems that someone has to fix.

Such a painful paradox.
So frustratingly stupid to pine after someone who sees you but looks through you.
If anything that is worse than being ignored.
At least when you do not exist at all to that person you can at least dream that one day they may see you...but to be looked through and seen as nothing more than a lovable loser who somehow just never manages to "make it" well...I can simply say I do not care.

What is the point of wasted breath?
Why do I feel the need to waste air?
What more can I expect or ask out of these people?

None of us are born without some purpose, some role in this story.
However none of us are assured as to what that is.

I am not one made to be able to love and love back.
What is the absolute point?
Love, marriage, family...silly things never meant for me.
I try but my heart is growing colder and deader with each day.
I feel less, my compassion is fading and my empathy is in chaotic decay.

I focus on myself so much...to my own determent.
The decay, the pain...all so real and vivid...

I don't know the future.
I do not need to know it.
Maybe something will change...maybe I will learn to feel again and open my heart up...but I would just as soon let it grow cold and at least be able to support and hold someone...something up...while the rest of me just falls apart.

At least I might be able to act as a stonewall.
That has to count for something.

Quote of the Day:

“Nothing is more revolting than the majority; for it consists of few vigorous predecessors, of knaves who accommodate themselves, of weak people who assimilate themselves, and the mass that toddles after them without knowing in the least what it wants”
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Pointlessly stupid angry rage.
Yay.

Where did I leave my sarcasm button?

Quote of the Day:

"Forgiveness means it finally becomes unimportant that you hit back."
-Anne Lamott

Thank you Jesus, thank you for my friends who are acting as anchors and propping me up because of how hard it is to move at times from the pain, how hard it is to function and just for helping me retain my sense of humor in the storms.

The paradox is that when I am in the worst pain...you find me here and carry me, letting the prayers of all those who came before...this family of saints that all of these ones who mean so much to me are in...with divisions, pain and trials...we are closer than human blood...we're bound by the blood of you my Love, my Lord.

I really could do without the whole pain thing for a day or two...

It is sort of amazing how some people are so proficient at casting others to the side.

I wonder how often I have done that without realizing...hurt people, hurt their feelings, made them feel rejected, made them feel worthless...

So much is going on so often and there is so little time in which to act or try to decide what the right thing to do is...

Quote of the Day:

"There's no point being grown-up if you can't be childish sometimes."
-The Doctor

Is finally, finally breaking the 12k word mark and only need around 7k more to catch up and be on schedule. He has no idea how the end product will be but is rather proud of how some of the plot and characters are turning out. This is definitely PG-13 bordering R rated material which is very much new territory for him to be working in...scary yet refreshing in ways that only novel writing can be.

Yay for third person.

I forget how much other Christians can make my head hurt.

I just do not see a point for going overboard with "praise" this and "praise that"...I know it's not all insincere...in fact I would dare say the majority of it IS sincere...it is just "Christianese" that drives me mad.

What is the point of talking about faith when it never goes beyond a theory or a group of words loosely used to describe how a person wastes a perfectly good Sunday morning because it is nothing more than status or a feel good pat on their back?

I know letting other people's actions and thoughts interfere and control how I respond is not just unhealthy but stupid.

The good thing is that we're all on equal footing before God...we're all sinners, all broken and all in need of healing, acceptance and love...it's just learning to live those qualities out is so hard.

So tired, so far from home...far from any sense of relation.
I feel like a stranger.
An alien.
Disconnected from those who do not know of what I speak or what I have seen.

How can one begin to divulge the experience of feeling eternity flow through oneself?

So much more...

It is basic yet so deep, simple and yet so profound...God's love.

I have been browsing Deviantart trying to find pictures to inspire my writing for Nanowrimo and I keep getting drawn back to this picture. The guy looks a lot like how I envision my main character Jace looks like and of course he spends 95% of his time running from Eldritch abominations. ^_^

http://nintene.deviantart.com/favourites/#/d1d9j22

Quote of the Day:

"You write. That's the hard bit that nobody sees. You write on the good days and you write on the lousy days. Like a shark, you have to keep moving forward or you die. Writing may or may not be your salvation; it might or might not be your destiny. But that does not matter. What matters right now are the words, one after another. Find the next word. Write it down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat."
-Neil Gaiman

On Lambs and Muses

Snow flakes falling,
building a castle to the sky
a tower to see from
watching as the world
flits and moving,
burning the roads and I know
it's just that I try
and find the means to fail.

I miss you.
I don't know who will listen
or know what it is like
to write a eulogy
and not know if you are heard.

What does it matter if any of these hear
when the only person I want to know
is on the other side of eternity?

Sometimes life feels like a sick joke,
everything we try
and the circles we run
when all I want to do is follow
and maybe see the one's I've lost.

My faith is so tired,
weary and needs rest,
the only kind
that may be found
in the meek lamb.

Little lamb
who called out to me
beckoning me to follow
when I was just a child,
fifteen years ago
you spoke
and I heard.
Ten years ago
you asked for the rest of me
and I complied.

Have we really been walking that long?
You have held me,
been so faithful
when I am so quick to despair and angst.

I just am worn down to my endings
just wanting to breath
and release all the pain,
all the tragedy
that has been held for so long.

Resolutions for questions
and things you will never tell me
but I still must ask,
Why?
Why the pain?
Why must we hurt?
How long,
how long until you come again
and end the pain?

Will I always walk alone,
being in a large crowd
but always isolated?

I miss you.
I don't know how to say it
and my clarity
feels just like lies.

I can't trust myself
and I am so quick to turn,
pointing fingers
and riding this pain
dragging it out
as long as I might.

I have no choice
and not a word
that can be spent on saying.

I have to live.
I'm needed
and when I can rest
is after going home.

But it doesn't ease the pain,
the pain of distance
the pain of loss
and how I always wonder
and my mind wanders
how thou doth fair?

But it is what it is,
so much confusion.
Beauty and pain
but every day renewed.

"a fool's devotion
swallowed up in empty space
the tears of regret
frozen to the side of his face

the smell of sunshine
I remember sometimes

I've done all I can do
could I please come with you?
sweet smell of sunshine
I remember sometimes"

I'm just not sure why I trust certain people.
Inevitability.
There is just...

I know I will be back stabbed or if I am lucky just ignored.
It happens, has happened...

Will happen.

It's annoying and depressing...

But I can try to enjoy the ride as best as I can, being a real man and a brother who watches out for and is there to protect his friends and his sisters.

Is it better to be ignored or reviled and rejected?
So tired.
So convoluted and just...I do not know.
I do not know.

I wish I could hide away and then no more...no more of this pain no more of these pointless and ridiculous circles I have to run in just to escape from...the further circles, and more senseless pain.

What is honor?
What is trust?
What is devotion?

So many broken friendships and forgotten times.
I just don't have the energy to care.


I had coffee and a night time drive, listening and being a wall of support and defense. Watching the orange lights spill across the roads, breaking shadows and across our words and songs.

Seeing the lights reflect off the bay and just enjoy the comfortable silence of someone I can trust...

But I still worry.
I know it will end.
Everything has to.
It's the nature of life.

So tired.

There is at least good that has happened...
Maybe more can before it ends.

So much to do so little time.

-Novel
-Notes for class
-Parts and rehearsal for Christmas Spectacular
-Learning lines from Hamlet and blocking the scene for class
-Lying on my desk in despair
-Drinking tea
-Going to World Market to get more tea
-Having more despair
-Laying on the ground twitching
-Writing plot for running another session of Deadlands
-Trying to eat the stuff the school calls "food"
-Doctor Who
-Poems
-Despair
-Sleep?
-Exercise
-Trying to thank God for tolerating my ever increasing boughts of stupidity

This managed to remind me how much I miss Conan O'Brian.
And for some reason I keep craving diet coke every time I watch this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=baa-dGj2LhQ

Quote of the Day:

"Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives.”
-Oscar Wilde

Things That go Bump in the Night

I have always had an interest in the dark and horror.

I believe the first movie with horror elements I saw that I latched onto was "Aliens" by James Cameron which was a sequel to the classic Ridley Scott film "Alien". Unlike the God-awful "Alien versus Predator" franchise which I believe is almost as bad if not actually worse than "Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man", "Alien" explored the isolation of space, the horror of a parasitic alien that not just feeds off of humans but uses us as a means for incubating their young and had one of the few strong female roles in sci-fi that isn't overly sexual in Ellen Ripley (which also launched Sigourney Weaver's career into the limelight).

The movie "Aliens" took the premise established and introduced a large contingent of egotistical space marines who upheld the popular myth that everything can be fixed with technology and superior firepower just to have almost all of them systematically slaughtered by creatures who merely operated on basic instinct.

It is weird to think that something as simple as those ideas became a multi million dollar franchise that practically any self-respecting geek is at least somewhat familiar with.

Besides the idea of hostile aliens and government conspiracies (that love was grown by the likes of TV shows such as "The X-Files", "Torchwood" and the like)my next big love in the horror genre came about with my exposure to George A. Romero's "Dead" series. "Night of the Living Dead" both the 1968 and 1990 and "Dawn of the Dead" were instrumental in establishing my love of scathing social commentary with dark plots that captured your imagination and showed that no matter what the circumstances that humans themselves are indeed the worst monsters to inhabit this planet.

Romero's ability to run counter cultural themes (having strong black males leads as not only heroes but typically the most established and balanced of the characters during the racially divisive 60's and 70's) while creating a monster that is essentially human with no moral restraint, taking and consuming with no notion of "right" or "wrong".

This theme was taken and expanded upon in the classic 'Dawn of the Dead' (the 1978 original, not the 2004 bastardization by Zack Synder) to where the zombie plague was spreading and a group of humans took shelter in a in door mall. The literal and metaphorical references to the growing consumerism that dominated the 80's was readily apparent and Romero managed to mix the grotesque with the profound.

The next step in my progress down this rather morbid, yet fun path is being exposed to the Evil Dead trilogy which introduced me to the amazing team of Sam Rami, Ted Rami, Bruce Campbell and the rest of their Michigan based team which created an awkward yet lovable series of horror films which merged dark humor with the mythos of HP Lovecraft (Necronomicon, anyone?) whose writings I would not read until I was in the midst of my graduate studies.

After these the only real movies to grab my attention in recent years in the same manner has been "Shaun of the Dead", John Carpenter's "The Thing", "Blade Runner" and the rock opera "Repo! The Genetic Opera!". A very diverse group of films mixed with nihilistic dark humor, horror and most important to me - a reminder that humanity is small, very small and even with my faith I think humanity forgets how remarkably fragile we are and how unique life on earth is in comparison to the rest of the known universe.

Once I started reading Stephen King's "Dark Tower" series and exploring the table top games of "Deadlands" and "Call of Cthulhu" I found this strange fascination with how humanity and the horror seem to go hand in hand.

Almost all of the Christian fiction I have had this misfortune to read is horribly dull, very two dimensional and completely sanitized for consumption within the Christian Cultural Bubbles.

This is a shame.
I believe this must come from the overly puritan roots that influenced a lot of churches and theological thought because once one starts actually reading the Bible from the idea that it is an actual historical document set in a particular time and place over thousands of years one starts to see how dark humanity is.

Sort of like Lovecraft and King actually.

You have murder, rape, genocide, horrifying plagues and so much variation just in Genesis alone, so much more over the rest of the time period recorded in the Bible.

Is it because humans are debase that we seek entertainment that reflects this or is it a means of drawing these horrors out of us so we can openly talk about those things we try to hide from?

I think those of faith who try to hide away from the darkness present in fiction, in the imagination, much less the world are doing themselves a disservice. If we have faith in a God who is bigger than us, greater than any force in this world then why do we cower in our rooms from reality?

It is almost like fiction can be used to liberate us from apathy, waking us from the cold slumber that there are genuine problems in this world that need to be addressed.

At least that is the idea I am shooting for.

There really is no point to beat some one over the head with the notion that there is good and bad...and really I would like to think a lot of my efforts are sort of in the vein of Flannery O'Conner.

"The writer who emphasizes spiritual values is very likely to take the darkest view of all of what he sees in this country today. For him, the fact that we are the most powerful and wealthiest nation in the world doesn't mean a thing in any positive sense. The sharper the light of faith, the more glaring are apt to be the distortions the writer sees in the life around him... My own feeling is that writers who see by the light of their Christian faith will have, in these times, the sharpest eyes for the grotesque, for the perverse, and for the unacceptable... The novelist with Christian concerns will find in modern life distortions which are repugnant to him, and his problem will be to make these appear as distortions to an audience which is used to seeing them as natural."

-Flannery O'Connor

6,574 words and I will be back on track.
I can possibly do this.
I think I can.
I would much rather slump over my desk in despair but writing would be a touch more productive.

Oh dear, oh dear.

*withers away*

Such insane nonsensical nightmares.
Everyone...must...has to go away in the end...and yet...

Hope?

*sigh*

Prayer.
Hope.
Faith.
...love?

Oie...so complicated...fear...doubt...so much...

Quote of the Day:

“He sends a cross, but He also sends the strength to bear it.”
-Leo Nikolaevich Tolstoy

Quote of the Day:

"“May today be peace within. May you trust your highest power that you are exactly where you are meant to be... May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you... May you be content knowing you are a child of God... Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise, and love. It is there for each and every one of you.”
-Mother Theresa

This was actually a very encouraging piece written by Mercedes Lackey:
http://www.nanowrimo.org/node/3853430

Quote of the Day:

“I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody.”
-Bill Cosby

Yes.

Sometimes I do in fact surprise myself.

Dear Jesus

I'm here, confused as always and just hoping to find grace after such a long struggle.

Words are all I have and they are so cheap.

How do I begin to even speak sincerely after all the lies, the doubts, the fears, the hate, the lusts, the pride and all the self destructive wastes of time?

I will never be able to look you in the eye because of how much shame I feel...not just for surviving or being alive...but knowing how I relentlessly turn away from those you send to me...and I just want to hide with me and never see the light again.

But, why and how...you love me?
Not just narcissistic me.
But...this world, those hurting and broken...knowing they can't do this life alone and need love just as desperately as me.

All this aching, all this pining, worry and stress...

What matters?
What truly matters?

Is there anything besides love?
You are so just, so loving, caring, so much more than I can scarcely dare to dream...

Thank you.
Thank you for a new day to live and smile.
Thank you for my loved ones...friends and family who carry me when I am too weak to continue in this broken body.

Such beauty, such wonder.
Infinite splendor
and the priceless pearl
in this broken world of dirtiness.
Thank you now and forever.

Fear!

Loathing!

Excitement!

Yes Nanowrimo!

=D

I am starting to have second thoughts about being a mentor...I already have four victi-er...charges I have agreed to help make it through to the 50k finish line.

Oh dear.

This shall be interesting. ^_^

Internet rage over pie and plagiarism:

I'm just trying to imagine how different this would have been if a cat would have been in danger and 4Chan got pulled into all of this:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=131091599&sc=fb&cc=fp

So it turns out loud eating is one of my biggest pet peeves.
I swear I am going to have a bloody aneurysm before all is said and done.

I can't believe I just spent fifteen minutes trying to figure out how to spell "icicle".

-_-

You know...despite me tendency towards the negative...

It really isn't all so bad.
Just so much to do...so little time.
It is far too easy to become overwhelmed...to be needlessly lost on things that never will matter.

I'm feeling so disconnected.
The harder I try the worse it all gets.
I am so tired of being sick.
How long will this existence bathed in twilight will last?

Sometimes it just doesn't even seem worth it...to even ask why.

Then there are moments that without a doubt divine...like in Drama Production yesterday afternoon. With all the hell building up in my life...that was such an unexpected movement of prayer.

What is the point?
I feel so...
How do I trust anyone?
Will the questions ever fade?

I don't want to let anyone close, I do not want to let anyone with the name of Christian near me because I have been betrayed and turned on by almost all of them.

It is almost as if none of them are aware of the irony of wearing the name of Christ and yet being nothing more than baseless animals beneath the shined up and polished exterior.


But the thing is...I can't point the finger.
I am guilty of the same sins and more.

It's like all I am qualified to really do is hypocrisy.

Maybe...I will one day be able to slide out of this impossibly think cynical skin and be able to act as though I am in my mid twenties and not my eighties.
Being ahead of the curve is only good if it leads to something positive....being perpetually exhausted, burned out and seemingly on the verge of collapse helps no one...

It's just...

I think I just felt my mind explode. #_#

So many thoughts.
So many irrelevant.
I am tired too.

Positive thinking really isn't too far off though...

Dreams?
What are those?

At some point...there was this...
It was like...
Where are my words?
What did it look like?
How can I begin to paint it for you?

"Where there is no vision , the people perish; but he who keeps the law-blessed is he."
-Proverbs 28:18

I'm sure at some point it was different...
Sure, I will never be accused of being the poster child for optimism...but for some reason and someway it just seems that things...

There is every reason not to do the right thing.
In the world there is every excuse, every means and carte blanche excuse for every and anything under the sun that can lead to over saturation and addiction...


Do any of us really see our blindsides?
See our blatant hypocrisies?
Those sins we harbor and encourage, growing to our own perverse delight?

Is despair itself a sin?
Or is it one only after it becomes a sacred idol, a defining way of life?

I have to work all of this out...it's not just a school problem or an existential crisis...but it is finding myself, finding my work again...finding why I bother at all.

Waking up, breathing, taking care of myself just to do it...just because is not enough. I have to struggle to find some sort of vague echo of life, of health and peace.

I am much too tired to be self sacrificing and to pretend I care about everyone and everything right now...

Is it okay to be honest, even when it leads to pain?
Leads to looking at this slow downward spiral and see it for what it truly is?

I go from feeling nothing, to everything and back to feeling nothing at all...just vague pieces of dust blowing around in this cosmic wind...

I know there are good things, wonderful and beautiful...but I don't know if I was made for them...really made for this world...nothing ever makes sense...and it feels as if my body is continually trying to reject it...reject me...reject everything around here...

Small and stupid words and wonders of these worlds...

Plastic smiles are expected all the same.
Answers or not, truth or fiction...simply being...

Fading away, is it okay?
Is it really the truth?
I just...

Must I choose between everything and nothing?
My normality is so different from everyone else...all these large and impossible things...floating, spinning...growing, crashing, colliding...shaping, reshaping, form and defining themselves in such vivid means...

I just...

Too weary for battle or digging deeper.
I can breath, I can drink tea and I am alive.
I am so grateful for that right now.