"I sometimes feel like I'm Holden Caulfield,
sometimes Jack Kerouac.
I wanted to be famous,
now I want to take it back.
Don't want to rock the mic,
don't want to meet the pope,
I just want to share with you,
how we got this peace and hope.

I once wanted to be famous,
now I want to take it back."

"The Fear Of God" - Showbread

Dear God, why should I think You’re good in a world that’s falling apart?
The flags and lies, picket signs raised high, the endless enveloping dark
Now here we sit, drifting further from You, two thousand years on their way out
Now here I am, as I’ve grown to know You, still haunted by my fears and my doubts

Just a man, just a vapor, just a waste of your space
All the good that I’ve done is in spite of myself
I’m not sure that I can look You in Your face when I finally set foot in Your kingdom

Dear God, what went wrong? We hate ourselves, we hate our brother
We so desperately want to find our way, and all You say is "love one another"

And little babies starve to death, emaciated, out of breath
Unfaithful wives make vows untrue, husbands beat them black and blue
Junkies vomit in the streets, writhing, twitching in their skin
Sell themselves to die some more, rotting from the outside in
Parents steal the innocence from their children, scared and shaking
Drink away the guilt at night, brings quiet to the endless aching
And evil men boast on TV, swimming in a sea of wealth
While misery beds honest men, and lonely people kill themselves
And everyone cries out Your name, as the world is raped by selfishness
And no one knows the way to heaven, we only know the emptiness
And the storm it rages in my heart, and the endless empty roars in my ears
My world is coming all apart, I’ve no strength left to dry my tears
And through it all I hear Your voice, breaking my heart, breaking my will
Calms the storm inside my soul as You whisper "peace, be still..."

You place Your hands around my heart, You quiet the emptiness in me
A king that kneels, a God made a servant, You set the captives free
You wait for me, a wretch of a man, no record of wrongs do You keep
You are comfort when I mourn, You are strength when I am weak
Jesus Christ, the king of kings
Though we ache, though we cry, never break, never die
We sing of His great love again and again
And His love reigns forever, and forevermore
Forever and ever, Amen

"You Don't Know Me" - Ben Folds

"Teardrop" - Massive Attack

'Teardrop on the fire'

Nothing is shutting down right now...I feel so...devoid of anything meaningful.

I want to edit my latest essay but I can't bare to write a defense to ward off criticism for reading 'evil' novels.

I feel so stressed.

Like I'm going to explode...or throw up or just cry or something.

I can't get this poison out.

Music isn't helping, I can't focus to pray...I've no one I can talk to...I just need out.

Now.

Some escape, I want to run away...not to my imagination because it's empty and ugly...it just reminds me of how plagued everything is. How I keep nicking myself with a razor blade while shaving and the blood just creeps down my throat and reminds me of how a few years ago I almost threw everything away over a person who I doubt would spit on me if I was on fire.

There are so many thoughts that are not just racing but tearing through my head right now.

Desires.

Screams.

Pain.

I have a migraine.

My spine feels like it's on fire.

I keep forgetting that although hair itself cannot hurt the bits that connect the follicles to my scalp can get agitated and hurt like a mofo.

Jesus what am I even trying to pray for?

Do You know?

Why don't I just nuke this blog and migrate back to my anonymous Live Journal account from back in college? It was whiny stupid prayers but at least I didn't have people trying to confront my problems...or over analyzing every phrase.

I just don't like myself right now.

Or You (You, being Jesus, please don't ask if it is you. Thanks.).

I don't know right now.

Things are still racing.

I want to talk to You, yes You.
Could you bother to come down long enough for us to speak?

I keep thinking of my favorite Peanuts shirt (which I keep getting reminded that it is 'childish', thank you for the fashion advice and please go find some short pier to take a long walk on) and it's one of the 'Sandlot Peanuts' strips. I connected to well because I read these when I was in third through fifth grade and I played little league and sucked, horribly.

Back to the point.

Charlie Brown swings and misses the ball so he says 'fine' and he leaves and holds Snoopy in his lap and says "At least I can hold my dog." and Snoopy promptly falls out of his lap. I wish I could hold my dog but I can't. He died back in May while I was back in Mobile for a wedding I really had little desire to go to.

He was one of the few living things from my childhood I liked quite a bit.

I still have my cat but he'll leave me too in a few years, if I'm lucky.

Or maybe I'll just end up abandoning him whenever I get the Hell out of this place.

I don't know...I don't know if I live in the future or live so apart from time that I'll wake up and it'll be the day before yesterday or just another relentless list of things to not do.

I don't know.

Have I said that lately?

Jeez...people will start thinking I'm stressed or crazy or crazily stressed or something.

Something.

Distracted by fallen angels and muses...shooting stars and songs of elves while sitting here and not knowing what I'm doing here.

I keep thinking of wasting what little money I have on reactivating my World of Warcraft account and will slap myself if I do that. I don't think I am going to let anyone pay for that so I'll just start making statues out of stray bits of paper in my room or something.

Or maybe I'll just pile everything outside and burn it.

That might be nice.

Seeing the movie tonight did something in me...disturbed something that I thought I had locked down and smothered.

Finishing the book earlier just awoke more nostalgia and more of a reminder that this place isn't my home, this world isn't what I was meant to live in...that things are fallen and make no sense...and the more people try to push me into a mold the more pissed off I get and the more tired I get of *people*.

No one knows what they should do with themselves and I'm not angry at well meaning advice...just people shoving their opinions as absolute truth down my throat.

I just want to explode...not hurt others...not cause pain...but just brilliantly explode in flames and be done with it all...just pass through into what is real.

It doesn't feel like this flesh, this world, this being, these desires are real...it's like this is all a horrible dream...a fleeting nightmare before I awake into the real world...wake into grace...and love...and the Life that is endless...that is beauty and has no constraint.

Judd Apatow almost impressed me with that movie last night.

*Almost*

"Hey You" - Pink Floyd

"Hurt" - Johnny Cash

"Like A Rolling Stone" - Bob Dylan

Right now my life makes about as much sense as this video does...

Oie.

Why?

Story...

I feel so drained...anytime I finish any sort of book series...there is just this exaustive drain on me. The longer I've lived with the series the bigger the drain. This one was only about four years so it wasn't so bad...the Harry Potter series was the worse...close to a decade worth of memories and imagination.

But it's a good tired.

It reminds me why I love story and how some days it feels that the imagination is more real than real is...if that makes sense. The Matrix Online was good for that...World of Warcraft is a pale imitation of what that could be...sort of like comparing Harry Potter to Twilight...it's not fair for either party but still the superior brand is clear for those who are looking and know what they are trying to see.

I'm quite excited about Donald Miller's new book coming out this month "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years"...it's about the importance of story to our lives...how the ideas of plot, character, conflict and resolution are a part of that makes life life...life and art being one and being what drives us.

Ever since I first encountered Story when I was a child...I've been obsessed with it...the desire to explain what I've seen in story, in metaphor, in the idea of experince points and epic battles to right the eternal wrongs. I was told young to dream big but that my dreams were stupid, it's amazing what memories jut out at you and this memory has always cut me when it poked out. I feel like I'm trying to run from myself so often that I never see what it is I'm doing...I'm so full of medication that I forget to breath, forget that I exist for a reason and that everyone around me has meaning.

That is the chief lesson I think there is in Roland's quest for the Dark Tower.

Is the end the chief reason for being?
Do we exist for the sole purpose of reaching an end?
Is food an end?
Is sex an end?
Is marriage an end?
Are children an end?
Is a quest to reach the end of the world, to stop creation from unwinding the sole reason for a hero go journey?

No.

It is the daily progress, the dull words of conversation, the ache of muscles too weary to walk another step, the bitter taste of loosing love ones, the sting of realizing time and people are moving on without you, that eternal is only eternal indeed...it is all these things in the progress of the journey that makes life truly life.

Part of my disappointment is expecting to find this sacred reason beyond living as a reason to live...what was the quote Donald Miller mentioned in 'Searching for God Knows What'? Something like "Real life is like fine wine, something children cannot appreciate."

I can't help but still feel like a stupid little kid; sick, tired, confused and hurting deep in my soul and still, here I am.

I haven't given up yet and will not.

I don't need to know that life, fate, ka or whatever is a wheel...things will continue to rotate but none of us are fortuned with a second change to learn from the heartless mistakes we make as we plow through people like they were nothing more than paper dolls.

Maybe that is one of our greatest sins...not realizing people are just as, if not more so, important than ourselves.

If we aren't willing to put ourselves up to sacrifice, how can we ask others to lend their lives for our 'quests'?

It's not mere sentimental romance running through my mind...but realizing I have forgotten the face of the only Father I have known...I've traded it for the love of self and indulgent self deprecation.

Jesus mentions loving other as much as you love yourself...what if you forget to love yourself? How can you love others, much less the Author of Love without loving yourself?

It's a paradox, one I've neglected for fear.

Of what exactly...I'm not sure but for sure it is one in which I have focused on the impossible in order to have some sense of relief...some sense that is as false as any fool's gold will be.

Learning what to love means, learning to heal as much as my body can and then I can progress.

Somewhere.

To something.

I'm not sure where it is going or where I am not going.

As far as I've been able to tell time is not linear nor will be the rest of my life.

There are no happily ever after endings...but there is the possibility of a longer life than the one I've so far have spent, there is a possibility of the night stretching into another morning and the possibility that every tear and heartache will have a deeper meaning...and be taken away in love...one day.

Good Day Rain

It is finished.

It feels like I have crossed a million miles in such a few years...just from reading the books...but it is finished...and yet only just begun.

I'm glad my part as a reader is done. The story can continue in the circle it was created to be and I can rest knowing it will be and it will forever be.

My only regret is being unable to speak to the one who introduced me to the path, introduced me to the books and the muse that is always willing to voice a differencing opinion when it is needed.

It is a good day.

"A World Alone" - Saviour Machine

Love leaves the soul
Blood feed the man who stands
Alone in the grasp of the hands
That fornicate the land
That emulate the past
To infiltrate a man to tear his brother's flesh
Then drink his blood as we confess
Unto the crimes, we lay at rest
We lay at rest

Rest upon the hand, rest upon the fortress
Hold me in your arms, hold on to the dreams
And the cry to wipe away the tears

In a world that takes away the seeds
And takes away another
To fill its evil needs
In a world that takes away the dreams
When dreams deceive a man, insanity proceeds
In a world that's drowning in its lies
Which persecute his brother
For the color of his eyes
In a world that radiates the skies
Intoxicates the oceans
So watch it as it dies, Alone

No one is home, now one will answer the call
The cry, hear the cry
Comprehend the nature of your soul

The horrors of a child that slips into the night
Surrenders to the fight to find his senses won't reply
Unto the evidence he finds along the way
He dies along the way

My world has no more meaning
I've not much more to take
Hold me in your arms, hold on to the dream
And the cry to wipe away the tears

In a world that takes away the seeds
And takes away another
To fill its evil needs
In a world that takes away the dreams
When dreams deceive a man, insanity proceeds
In a world that's drowning in its lies
Which persecute his brother
For the color of his eyes
In a world that radiates the skies
Intoxicates the oceans
So watch it as it dies, Alone

I want...something.

Not from people but it's what I look for and why I find such dissatisfaction so often.

I want perfection from the imperfect...it's almost like I'm expecting to find purified water in a diseased swamp.

I wish there was some real escape from the prison my own mind can be...

This is such a vividly painful day...

So sick of pain and so tired of people.

Am I trying to recapture a fleeting moment of the past that never was...or are You leading me somewhere?

That was an unsettling dream of such...sweet tenderness.

"What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt"

Ka

Such an exhausted burning...I feel like I will be extinguished soon...

"Better Than Drugs" - Skillet

I hate getting the shakes. =/