I'm so sick of the pain.

Never More

Nothing more.

Nothing now.

Nothing again.

Nothing ever.

Go to sleep.

More than enough.

It's just the same.

Undertones Softly Spoken

Wordless.

Speechless.

I don't even know what to say.

It's hard waking up,
it's harder getting up.

Facing life isn't what it used to be,
you don't have assurance
you don't get second chances.

It feels a clutter,
it fee;s weak and loose.
I don't even have words for tonight.

I keep loosing ground with every sigh,
I keep loosing myself forgoing foresight.

I want to breath again,
I want to remember life,
I want to breath deep
and take in forgotten air.

I've got nothing but you
and you say you've got naught but me.
I don't know numbers
and won't pretend to understand
when all I've got is my hurt.

I can't pretend to walk
when I can't stand.
I won't pretend to understand
when all I do is doubt.

The only thing I begin to feel certain about
is how uncertain you make me feel tonight
and every night of every day.
It's not a dance nor an embrace.
I'm empty and you're all I've got
and it's not enough.
Not enough for today or tomorrow
or the shadows stretching out past your face.

Just can we try,
try to put the past behind for tonight,
just letting love run free.

Beyond my self, beyond my fear
and doubt of your real existence,
can we just be here
and be here tonight?

Getting A Bit Better

Can looking myself in the mirror, staring deep and trying to honestly find myself lead to the bigger problems being fixed?

Directly no.

That is an impossible thought.

But taking the time to realize who I am and sincerely where I stand in the world, taking realistic and healthy looks at myself will only lead to the potential for positive changes.

The problems we face...easier to just use the word sin...all of it is caused by pride on some level or another...pride in thinking we are the ones who are in control, we own our bodies, we can control others, we can use others, we can blindly act without regard to others...this crazy notion that we shape our own destiny and that we are the ones who are central to the story of life.

It is sort of spitting reality in the face...this lie of thinking we are more important...which sort of flies in the face of humility and love.

Honestly, if there there is no difference in morality then why even bother trying to have a point in the first place?

If all of this is absolutely relative and simply based upon preference then there is no sincerity, no love and no real purpose in anything.

Even pleasure has no meaning because there has to be a measure of which can be judged good and pleasurable...life just becomes useless rubbish with no meaning.


That could be a sincere and healthy dose of reality...the actual possibility of no hope, no love, no God, no goodness and just the idea of us all being a random accident.

That is a possibility but at the same time any attempt for someone to force their belief is null and void because they have no right to claim superiority.


But what would that even matter?


Hypothetical thought only does so much when you have had truth standing next to you and touching your heart, breaking you and brining you back to life.

What is the point of truth if you choose to ignore it?

Facts can't save humanity, only action and decision to move past our inflated egos and embrace love...can have any real change...and not just love...but sincere and infinite love offered only by the one bigger than all.

I'm tired of feeling like I'm only half alive...because I'm ignoring the truth I've found and felt...ignoring real love that goes beyond my inability to cope with people...I mean...just ignoring truth and the fact I'm broken and am frail but I'm not hopeless...that no one is hopeless...that we all deserve and should be loved...ignoring the fact that if I stopped long enough I can be loved and brought closer to the end of this life but one step closer to absolute truth, reality beyond reality...hope beyond hope.

A few items of note:

1.Feeling so nauseated I can't get out of bed sucks, no matter how you look at it.

2.My cell phone must have new Verizon Wireless technology that allows it to make controlled cell phone sized worm holes for it to disappaer into and reapear at random points in my room.

3.Not getting replies in the email from specific people concernign internships.

4.Feeling more confused now more than ever about stuff.

T.S. Eliot Quote

"Humankind cannot bear very much reality."
-T.S. Eliot


Ah so true...

...but feeling incredibly nauseated still has nothing to do with moral and mental relativity in conjunction with the benign life.

Depressed is such a relative term anyways.

I really think I should set fire to all my metaphorical doors, windows and mirrors...that way I can sleep at night.

Sleep?

Such a novel concept!

Waking, breathing, living, dying, hibernating, climbing or fighting...all of it is a blur of nonsense that only half way rhymes most days.

U2 and some

Enjoying U2's new album quite a bit...still not sure on everything but the best line I've heard so far has been:

"Stop helping God across the road like a little old lady"

Ah...so true.

Morning Coming Down

Despite these shallow breaths matched only by shallower prayers...I know everything will be okay...it is just hard to focus...

When something goes back, something goes good...even last night...words can't add together or make things right in my head...I feel I keep loosing touch with the ground every time I fall.

I've only heard a few tracks but the new U2 album is streaming on their myspace page...it is more hope then I've wanted to hear about life and the future for a while.

Cynicism and nihilism are so much easier than honesty and truth. No wonder I hate myself so much, much less why U2 is so easy to hate...I suppose earnesty being mistaken for self.

Who know?

I don't even know who I am, much less want to know.

Thanks for propping my soul up a bit against the wall, not sure how much longer I can stand but I appreciate the help so far.

Broken Prayers and Thoughts

I've wanted to apologize for strong language in the past but I can't. Part of being in love is fighting, getting upset, having rows and telling someone how upset you are.

Personally, a sick part of me hopes me telling Jesus "I hate you and wish you would kill me" offends people and helps them realize that God doesn't need us to treat him like an old lady needing to cross the street.

I don't care how crazy I sound because the harder I fall, the worse I hurt, the greater the peace and comfort that wraps around me like a cloak. Even though I'm scared, confused and hurting...there is this peace that scares the Hell out of me.

I don't want to be loved, I don't want to be saved or redeemed from being a pathetic creature...but He still stands over me, holds me, carries me, comforts me and no matter how alone I feel or how much I hurt he never let's go of my hand.

I just hate feeling such a distance in between us, while feeling this passionate love I can't explain to anyone without feeling like I'm talking about some invisible lover that only I can see.

I can't help but feel insane because I hate the concept of love, it scares me, it hurts me and it makes me cry a lot. I don't want to be in love, I don't want to feel happiness, or joy or peace...I'm just sick and want to hurt...but He loves me and I have no choice. I try to run away and he pursues my heart just like he does everyone from their moment of conception to the moment of their dying breath and they awake into eternity.

Words fall short, words cannot describe the absolute infinity of love because they are merely tools of a disgustingly finite creature trying so hard to enter into a realm beyond the merest conceptions of finite organic material.

I want to badly to believe, to love, to live and just move one but Jesus, God, it is so hard. Every breath makes me ache, every moment is this walking through sub zero temperature.

I'm so cold, so needy, so desperate for more, so much so that I can't even comprehend or breath right.

I'm a fool in love, no more and no less.
Just this fool in the freezing rain dying for more of your love again and again.

How can I say I love you?
How can I make it last?
Make it meaningful?
I've tried most of my life to ignore you but my soul NEEDS you, it cries for you with a passion that scares me.
I hate the weakness I feel in my knees when I feel you presence around me.
I hate the tears in my eyes when I feel you touch my heart, my soul and give me more love.
It reminds me how tainted I am, how broken and how unworthy I am and how often I put me and everyone around me through this frustratingly stupid circles of me being depressed, self loathing and hate because I just can't SIMPLY accept your love, that I am loved and that despite the imperfections it will be okay.

If it can't be perfect I selfishly want it all to end.

To die.

To be dissolved because I can't handle such perfection because of how overwhelming it is.

The only thing, the closest I can get to expressing this love...this overwhelming...is through music...the pulsating beat, the piercing guitars...all so loud they almost hurt to hear...the voices, the deep growls...the pain, the love conveyed not so much by the words as the voice...words...expressions that get caught in my throat...that I cannot convey as well as I wish I COULD...but I cannot.

So much pain, so much longing.
So much death.
God, why?
Why allow love and bonds to be formed only to be ripped away, taking away my desire for life? Why allow me to love and feel so deep just so it can be ripped out of my hands and be left on my knees and hands wracking with unexpressed sobs? Unable to cry because people need me to be strong?

Why does this dam have to burst now?
Why do I have to bleed blood?
Why do I have to throw this all up for public display?

Why?
Why?
Why?


"These streets are as cold and wet
As my eyes, flesh and bones are longing home
I was taken out of context
And to think you had me not speaking for a month or two
But it’s not You I know
It’s just me waiting
Waiting for the sun to come out

We are to follow
What if I could stand still and get moved

We are to follow
We are nothing running blind
We are to follow
We are so sick of it now
We are to follow
But I’m scared to be left behind
We are to follow
Nothing now

The TV dies more and more for each day
And the beauty of your eyes (in my head)
Makes the flashing lights behind me on the wall look even more pale
Four o’clock and the sky is getting red
And here I am, just me waiting
Waiting for the sun to come out

I’m throwing myself at you
And I’m holding on for dear life
Can I scream out of tune in this choir
God help me scream

What if I would stand still and get moved
By You"

-Blindside, "We Are to Follow"

Awkward Prayers

It is not like I didn't see this coming.

I mean, really.

Me? A minister of any kind?

I have no business in a church, much less behind a pulpit of any sort.

It's a joke, a facade. Did I mention hypocrite? This lying, dirty mercenary looking for a cheap thrill at the greatest expense for those around me? Oh and I'm bothering to write a self loathing post for attention and so people feel sorry and bad for me.

Look at me go.

Solider of Christ I ain't.

Royal jackass is a better call.

Or at least that is my personal thought on the matter.

It's not like I had any good intention in what I wanted to do. Oh, maybe there were a few positive thoughts. A few things that slipped through the cracks of my demented ego that is all about being praised for being so 'holy' and 'good'.

Such useless rubbish.

Every time someone bothers to try and help me or get in contact with me I'm so wrapped up in my own world and thoughts that I ignore them, missing calls and emails and like I said, I'm just an ass.

I don't even know what the hell I'm doing standing around here in this rain.

I seriously doubt anyone can tell me either.

The first person who uses a door metaphor to help me feel better is getting a knife thrown at them, fair warning.

It is not like I didn't seen this coming either, I had put SOO much hope and faith into this that even if I WOULD have gotten it, I would have been disappointed.

I was expecting a miracle drug for my ailments, that's why I don't give a damn how much sicker I get because I'm going to die anyway. It doesn't matter if I get pancreatic cancer from them trying to help me, this worthless fetid thing is going to die in gasping breaths soon enough and frankly I don't care.

More pain?
More needles?
So what.
I don't care.
I'm in pain and the people I live around can't understand that simple damn fact. Waking up hurt, standing up hurts, walking down damn stairs hurts, eating food hurts and don't even bring up the issue of anythign involving the bathroom.

All of us were born to die, some of us were just meant to fall apart faster and I don't care anymore.

I haven't cared since the day I realized as a child that it honestly doesn't matter to 'family'. As long as they get their gold star and hollow smile they can pretend everything is okay and they have an a okay number one son with no social anxiety, depression or suicidal thoughts.

We can pretend all the fucking rain is gumdrops and jellybeans.

It won't matter in the long run.

There are people with brain tumors, epilepsy, AIDS, quadriplegic, quadruple limb amputees and are all nicer, better tempered than me and not such an utter jackass that they can't get a simple internship which would require them to simply show people love.

I'm cold and try to act like but all I'm succeeding at is just being this pathetic creature begging for sympathy and hating people for even daring to look at me with the least big of sympathy. I want to be hated, I want to cause people to be revolted when they see me...because at least when they hate me I can give a self satisfied grin. I can at least finally feel good for being this absolute scum that I have so desperately wanted my entire life.

It would be a relief to not longer have expectations on my shoulders. It would be nice to actually just let go and become everything I have always been afraid of and hated, just so I can prove my expectations right and just lay down an die because I don't care anymore.

I hate what I haven't even become and shake my fists angrily at the shadows that dance around the room, as if they could care.

Because, you know what?

At the end of the day, at the end of the twenty four hours, the one thousand four hundred and forty minutes and the eighty six thousand and four hundred seconds pass...when all of the pass all of this would have been for nothing.

I feel so cold and angry because I have isolated myself and because I'm too tired of feeling anything.

I want to pretend I don't care, I want to scream until my lungs explode that I hate You and despise everything you have done for me...but it would be lies. I can't even choose to hate the one I am supposed to love. I want to hate you but you want let me. I want to curse your name and cut myself off from all of this but you will not let me. I hurt so badly and I just wish you would reduce my atoms to the nothing that inhabited this existence before you spoke.

I want to feel something beyond death, beyond spirit and just have nothing. Atheists are lucky and naive bastards that can be cowards enough to claim nothing.

If they could stare off into the eternity of nothing they claim to believe they would wet their pants in fear and fall on the ground unmoving and begging the rocks to cover them from the gaze of one who is at once impossibly infinite and impossibly personal.

And what is this?

More rubbish?

I can't even stay mad at you long enough to say I hate you.

I am running circles and just wish you would end this now.

End all of this because I can't take it.

I know I am in misery and pain because I live here and haven't tried to really live or do much more then shiver in fear and want to lay in bed and die.

That is me.

Wonderful hero of this story, isn't it?

I run circles, scream swear words and just try to be open while realizing my efforts are mostly worthless and with little to no real point.

I create this poor pool of egotistical nihilism and am surprised to have it try and swallow me up.

Nice, isn't it?

So much of my life has been based on lies, or to better phrase it, false perceptions of reality that I embrace because it makes life more bearable. We can't say lie or people may get their feelings hurt. But we can say altered state of mind or a perception of reality which better works with our preconceived notions of morality, political correctness and how wonderful the lack of love is.

I feel this anger, this hate, this frustration, this rage, this hurt, this growing emptiness...how hollow I really am and how uselessly cheap my faith truly is.

And you know what?

Once again I'm falling at your feet...bleeding, crying, scared and with no hope.
Once again I am out of options, out of hope and no longer want to go on.
I don't know how many more breaths I can take but without you they are meaningless.

The best I can do is offer these words I haven't written as fading prayers for tonight, just tonight, once again, once more my Love...



"They won't see the fire you have lit inside of me.
They look up to the stars and wonder where you might be.
They look up
Without realizing they're standing in the palm of your hand.
I can't explain or understand.
I just love you.

It's common knowledge that; you've been dead for a while.
It's well known that the cross is only a burden with pains and trials.
But thinking how come my shoes are so light,
how come I can walk for miles?
And still, just love you?

So I think I'll stay, caught up in silent prayer,
cause I believe in silence.
Our hearts speak the same words.
So why don't we just walk along the shoreline with our silent song?
Cause I believe in silence.
Our hearts speak the same words, the same words.

We have to prove that our love is real, over and over again.
But let them think what they want cause I know It'll never end.
Cause I know when it began.
And my heart still pumps twice as fast whenever you walk by.
Cause I still love you.

So I think I'll stay, caught up in silent prayer,
cause I believe in silence.
Our hearts speak the same words.
So why don't we just walk along the shoreline with our silent song?
Cause I believe in silence.
Our hearts speak the same words, the same words."
-Blindside, "Silence"

This Just In:

No internship for Matthew!

*sigh*

C'est la vie, I suppose.

Some things to take care of:

1.Job
2.School, seminary or university?
3.Internship

Hooray for golf ball sized hail and the potential of tornadoy death.

In the end of all things I'm not quite sure what to say or do.

I just hope the regrets will be far and few.

Enough Love for the Night

I would like to write a love song,
saying everything I never said.
I would like to write a love song
telling you all the words I never dared.

Bending reality with metaphor and unbreakable spirit,
Saying yes to life
and learning to no longer drift.
To embrace those trifling moments,
and realize the absolute beauty of the moment.

The uncompromising beauty of killing my pride,
killing this ego and myself long enough to feel,
to heal of this disease
and draw near enough to feel you again.

I've always felt that loving was loosing myself
but it's learning to find me inside you,
looking deep enough to feel
and hurt enough to reveal.
Looking inside to see your heart reflected
in every little thing I want to do.

Looking long enough to realize playing the martyr
fell out of fashion with the Colosseum
and everything I have left will fit
quite easily into your hands
and that the only thing left to give is my heart
and the hope that that might just be enough,
be enough for today, tomorrow and the next.

These words stretching out into eternity,
marking our spirits with hope
and the beauty eternally refracted in your eyes.

Just a thought...

If Christians wanted to kill off all the 'evil' atheistic scientist, all we would have to do is say that evolution may not be as far fetched as our religious tradition says and then invite them over by diner.

QED, heart attack for the win.

Death by kindness.

It's sort of like one of those moments where it feels like I'm going to go crazy if I don't crazy tonight.

Which can be a good thing.

It would be nice to overcome my frailties, my humanity that holds me back.

The pain and the fact I'm alive in ways while dead in others.

Just waiting.

Haven't slept, can't sleep.

Too many rushing thoughts screaming through my head keeping me awake.

Too many memories, of missing, longing and silliness.

You?

There is this fear of mine that some wounds go to deep.

That some injuries can never fully heal, that the soul simply can only do so much before it has to give up and wait for eternity.

I hope that is not true but some days it does feel that way.

So much.

So so much.

Hard time focusing this morning, so much I would rather be doing than getting ready for six hours of monotony...I really just do not even care about what happens to the store...I'm away from this sinking ship after today and when I get my final two paychecks I can be quite happy to never look back...maybe happy...I'm not sure.

I'm just feeling a mix of emotions, you know?

It has been a long and stressful few months...or year rather...so my mind is not always screwed on very tight.

*sigh*

My muscles and body scream out in protest against being awake. Shivers of pain and cold. Sometimes I wonder how I have even been alive this long.

But how long is long?

Time is so subjective anyways...

Most of it doesn't seem to even remotely matter, at least from what I can tell of it.

*sigh* It would be nice to say hello.

And a bit more.

I hate how empty the nights are.

So much emptiness with so much room for improvements...maybe.

Maybe not.

But, all the same, hi.

Today is the last day of my job...I'm not sure how much I care.

You Just Don't Know

You just don't know how badly I wish I could explain everything in simple symmetrical terms.

The things that are far beyond our grasps could be reduced to three point messages and end with an upbeat message of hope.

I wish I could lie through my teeth and say everything will be okay when I know the alternative is much more certain.

The best I can ever say is to grin and bear it with Jesus as best as you can.

Find your reason why you are alive and then rage against the forthcoming night.

Rage, rage against that incoming darkness, that night of solitude of the soul.

This can't be the end.

These feelings, these desires in my heart...the unfulfillable need for absolute and unconditional love still burns and demands an answer from you.

I can't pretend anything or act any other way then that of which I deem to be truth and absolute truth.

I can't keep it up much longer tonight, my mind is too conflicted with too much pain.

I just need to be released from this shell of emptiness.

Job?

What job?

No job here.

>_<

*sigh*

It is not as if I enjoy being a multilayer creature of various secrets and hypocrisy...far from it. I struggle with hating myself for every single breath I take, every word I have ever spoken and for every step forward.

I'm supposed to know good from bad but no one ever mentioned the gray areas much.

I feel so sick and so fake so often.

The plus side is I have my vanilla pudding and water right this moment.

They are nice.

There is no finality, even in death. Nothing truly ever ends in the way that we would perceive it would or hope to process it as. But then again we do not even understand the ideas of things unfolding or becoming more or what they truly are.

There is no need for rash or stupid decisions.

Prudence is needed.

Maybe.

Bandwagons

As fun as they sound they are just not cool.

Original thought?

That is cool.

So to celebrate cool, here is someone more cool than me. Plus he is actually funny and not just funny looking, like yours truly:

Partially slept...mind melted...things odd...self realization...almost...complete...

Still cannot sleep...too much inexpressible stress and pain.

More Use(ful)less Late Night Ramblings

Still sad.

Not as much scared though.

Tired and medicated.

Anxiety about later today about awaking from sleep.

What am I really looking forward in life?

I mean, it's like my life has revolved around Jesus, books, music and fear of women.

More than just fear of women but I think fear of every possible relationship. Fear that by opening myself up I will be hurt worse...so it is easier to live in my world of stories and dreams that could never happen in the first place.

I want to dream big but the dreams around me all seem to be related to marriage, kids and settling down. The first makes some sense to me and the second doesn't make sense as much as it seems like something Jesus did as a cruel joke and the third terrifies me beyond any conceivable notion worth even thinking about.

Settling?

Good grief, I don't know about that.

It feels like compromise, this whole loosing myself and the unlimited potential I theoretically have held at any given point of my life.

I mean I have so much potential that I dropped out of seminary and have had a series of dead end jobs that have paid so little that I can afford gas and the occasional meal out on the town with those I con/blackmail/bribe and kidnap into spending the time with me.

It is almost criminal how popular I am.

Yes.

I do crack myself up with my slightly nonsensical ramblings.

Happiness can't be found if you don't want it or aren't looking for it.

I know it sounds so silly and impossible but I think I have forgotten how to look for it and relish it in the small things.

I mean, at fourteen, I thought my job was to fix the world. You know, that can sort of screw a kids head up. What kind of crazy thought is that? I didn't even know WHAT a Bono was much less WHO he was.

I knew bits and pieces of music that I had no identification for but at the same time I saw U2 for the first time when I was fourteen and the television was on. I don't watch football if I can help it but I saw the halftime show of the Super Bowl. I don't know if it was the first time I heard "Where the Streets Have No Name" but it certainly was not the first time I felt that feeling of God entering the room.

Once again I'm not talking about Bono. His charisma (some say ego or his sunglasses) can be seen from space but my point is that like any willing person who is honest and doing what they love a certain joy and excitement comes across.

Joy is infectious but so is living in the doldrums.

No matter what a person is looking for they will find it. If they want the dark and all the pain in this world to drown themselves in then they can find it or you know, there is always the hope option.

Even those of us in circumstances out of our control and beyond our cognitive thought processes still get to choose how WE react.

Were we made for glory?
That is a sincere question that demands a personal and sincere answer.

If life is more than random incidental collisions of particle that don't even agree with each other from second to second, if life is more than just the base chemical reactions, more than the ideas of flesh and learning processes, if life is indeed more than what we can possible dare to dream than what are we made for?

What are these longings, these desires, these dreams, these hopes and the need for them?

It is interesting to think that Psalm 14 says, loosely, that "Only a fool says in his heart there is no God."

What does that mean?

That maybe, belief in God isn't this mental exercise, this sort of book or head knowledge that gets tallied up along with your blood pressure. That to understand God is to understand that nothing is something. To believe in God takes more than just our collectively exhausted mental exercises that are honestly just menial and trite at their best.

It's not like I can judge someone for not believing or call them a fool myself.

Personally, if I was an alien that came to earth and saw Pat Robertson on television I think I would stay just long enough to declare war on the earth and get it demolished as soon as extra terrestrially possible.

Faith is weird and paradoxical, which tends to scare people. Everyone wants an easy answear for something complex.

For example:

1 + 1 = ?

I.The answer everyone likes is two.

II.The answer from what I understand of truth is that humanity is loved by this mostly incomprehensible huge force of perfect divinity with no beginning or end and that calling him Yahweh is easier and more compact and that this Yahweh guy made rocks, trees, and people with personalities and free will. At some point things kind of got out of hand and so began this amazing love story of Yahweh trying to get His people to return to Him and had its climax with a Rabbi who said he was Yahweh and a man said some really neat things and made a lot of religious people angry enough to get him killed. Then you got the whole idea of salvation from sin, the restoration of the soul, the idea of people like minded living in community to support one another and only about twenty thousand different ideas I left out.

Which one would make the better bumper sticker?
I know these aren't original truths but I like to think I have been keeping an open mind with my search and from what I can tell they are all parts of what make up this amazing truth that is more infinite and unknowable than the female mind. Or theoretical physics for that matter.

Both intensely difficult subjects that make me break out in hives.

Although I'm not sure what hives really are. Except that bee's tend to live in them and they are a band with a strong fashion sense.

So girls and physics make me like honey and wearing suits.

Isn't logical progression a fun game?


Hmmm...maybe more later...

I am sad.

And sort of scared at the same time.

I am.

Truth is odd.
It goes hand in hand with trust though.
It's something I don't have much of when I look in the mirror.

I hear jeering voices mostly and my own sense of self imposed impending doom.


Hmm as much as I talk about metaphorical voices I'm surprised I haven't been locked up in a padded room yet.

Yay.

Is it sad I'm finding more theological relevance in some Queen songs than I do most 'Christian' ones?

I'm missing a magical little thing I would like to call 'job security'.

To do list:

-Finish applying on seminary websites for information.
-Find church resume and update it, then send it out.
-Continue to work on book
-Don't forget about work
-Continue working on the "Secret Project" for release at a later time.
-Keep trying to find a potential other job in case the store closes
-Remember to carry around a paper version of this list so I can add to it when I need to and not risk forgetting the three to five items which I can no longer remember. *sigh*

I could go for some rain right now, a torrential down pour onto my soul. Something to wash this exhaustion away with, something to start the day over with.

I don't know, I don't know and I don't know.

I'm in some of the worst pain yet...and to top it off I missed U2's performance at the Grammys.

Go figure.

I'm feeling a bit tired with some hope going about somewhere.
But other times I feel so false and fake.
Paper thin and unable to make it.

I think I have discovered the end of despair but this world is good at fooling you. Is the problem seeing too much of myself when I should see more?

Perhaps, perhaps. Narcissism is a word at the top of my vocabulary.

Thankfully there is more than me, much more than me.

I'm not sure how I am feeling.
Right now at least.

Another brick wall.

I'm not sure how to see around something so immense and dare I say scary?

God, I just want to run and hide from all of this.
This monster I have created.

It is crazy, it is disturbing and a horror show wrapped in one. Being given the gift of creation with no limits but my imagination and whatever twists it can create?

Yikes.

It's like taking a look in me and being repulsed and sickend but just enough to continue staying in this mad circular loop and not find my way home to freedom.

So many false words can cloud my mind and my throat as I stand here, just trying to form real and articulate thoughts.

I want to hate love and fear it. From everyone and everything. The affection scares me if I was to be perfectly honest. I know truth, I've been exposed to its searing beauty, the feeling of having the dark separated form light, seeing my little habits and trinkets of a life devoted to self just fall out of thin air and lay beside me, idols I could never conceive of.

It is a crime to be so narcissistic.
But this is more.
It's my life I have embraced for so long.
This path of self devoted self destruction, playing the role of disheartened pilgrim or prophet forced into self impose exile with just as many contradictions as that statement.

I want to hide from this creature I have created.
It feels more like monster than man.
More beast than human.
This towering and pulsating profane tower of crudely assembled flesh and organic material. Some pride here, anger there and of course unnecessary amounts of envy and lust.

Odd mixtures I have created and worked to perfect.
Yet, there is more.
There is more than the simple pain or the complex quotient demanding resolution in a most perplexing way.

The longings of my heart are true.
To bathe in unearthly light, to feel the self obsessed narcissistic garbage I have been wearing called "Matthew" just wash away and just be me. Not this build up little action finger capable of several articulate movements, instead just free to breath and not be caught up in worthless and time consuming self berating.

Because it is just self worship.

Idol casting and really I don't even like how my nose turned out on the statue.
I never really wanted it that much anyway.
Just a little step, a little fresh air.
Before casting off the shackles and heading into the west.
Crossing a vast ocean for lands undying and such.

Thankfully peace, hope and love remain.
And they shall conquer all.

I can pretend to understand me but that would be a bigger lie then anything else that has escape my lips in this lifetime.

I could continue to open these scars and bleed until the self rightousness is fufilled but God, I am so tired of it all.

As quick as I am to abandon truth, love, hope and reality in the name of compromise and chilidish dream chasing of phantoms long dead, truth is more evident in the midsts of confusion and even dispair.

The pain is a cold shock.

Diving deep into the bitter chill just to realize the truth I knew to begin with, that what I'm looking for has been found.

It is another morning for what it is all worth.

Sometimes I hate myself beyond any absolutely conceivably describable rage, right now would indeed be one of those times.

Taste is indeed the enemy of art.

I'm feeling like a bit insomniatic with just a touch of megalomatic.