See it sparkle,
see the Spirit dance.
Joy beyond joy,
life beyond life.
The dancing of time
making a fool of us all
as we run to the end
not sure of ourselves
and the monochromatic
method of which we sleep.
Here the music start,
a kick of a drum
and a blast of a harmonic.
The bitter taste of loosing
mixed with the love of loving
and knowing
and most days never caring
about where we're going;
hand in hand on love
we move again.
It's time making a fool of us,
time dancing across our lives
as our beauty fades outside
and the spire splutters inside
and the colors fade
as they bleed out
making this monochromatic picture.
Night time dancing
as we sing our song
hoping for hope
as the sand slips away
out of this broken jar
and everything we dreamed just fades
and dear God we pray
just for enough grace
to make it through today.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Quote of the Day - Part Two:
"To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering, one must not love. But, then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer, not to love is to suffer, to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love, to be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy, therefore, to be unhappy one must love, or love to suffer, or suffer from too much happiness — I hope you're getting this down."
-Woody Allen
-Woody Allen
About a three hour nap...surely that is enough.
Fortified with medication and oatmeal I shall brave the exercise bike yet again.
I just have to keep telling myself this is all physical training for 'Z'-Day and that should be enough motivation to keep me going for a while.
Breath deep, move forward, never look back and never stop moving.
Fortified with medication and oatmeal I shall brave the exercise bike yet again.
I just have to keep telling myself this is all physical training for 'Z'-Day and that should be enough motivation to keep me going for a while.
Breath deep, move forward, never look back and never stop moving.
Quote of the Day:
"The most difficult lie I have ever contended with is this: Life is a story about me."
-Donald Miller
-Donald Miller
Excerpt from Donald Miller's "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years"
Chapter Twenty Nine - "The Reason Why God Hasn't Fixed You Yet"
I'm convinced the most fantastical moment in story, the point when all the tension is finally relived, doesn't actually happen in real life. And I mean that seriously. I've thought about it fifty different ways, but I can't figure out how a human life actually climaxes so that everything on the other side of a particular moment is made to be okay. It happens all the time in movies and books, but it won't happen to me - and I'm sorry to say, it won't happen to you either.
Maybe the reason we like stories so much is because they deliver wish fulfillment. Maybe we sit in the dark and shovel sugar into our mouths because in so many stories everything is made right, and we secretly long for that ourselves.
It was touching when Steve, Ben and I realized what the climax to our movie was going to be. We've been writing toward it for more than a year, and we were practically in tears when we finally wrote that part of the script. It was a scene in which two characters met in confrontation, and one asked the other for forgiveness. We were back at Jim's house in Tennessee, sitting around his table. I was saying the words my character needed to say, Ben was adding dialogue from the other character, and Steve was typing it as fast as he could. Neither Ben nor I were looking at each other, because if we did we'd have cried - we'd have over character who didn't exist resolving a tension that never really happened. There's just something in the DNA of a human that responds to the idea of an event, a moment in which the upheaval we've all been working around is finally laid to rest.
But regardless how passionate the utopianists are, I simply don't believe utopia is going to happen. I don't believe we are going to be rescued. I don't believe an act of man will make things on earth perfect, and I don't believe God will intervene before I die, or for that matter before you die. I believe, instead, we will go on longing for a resolution that will not come, not within life as we know it, anyway.
If you think about it, an enormous amount of damage is created by the myth of utopia. There is an intrinsic feeling in nearly every person that your life could be perfect if you only had such-and0such a car or such-and-such a spouse or such-and-such a job. We believe we will be made whole by our accomplishments, our possessions, or our social status. It's written in the fabric of our DNA that life used to be beautiful and now it isn't, and if only this and if only that, it would be beautiful again.
I saw a story on '60 Minutes' a few months ago about the happiest country in the world. It was Denmark. A study done by a British university ranked the happiest countries, and America was far down the list, but Denmark was on the top. Morley Safer explored why. Ruling out financial status, physical health, and even social freedom, he landed on a single characteristic of the Danes that allowed them such contentment. The reason Danes are happy was this: they had low expectations.
I'm not making that up. There is something in Denmark's culture that allows them to look at life realistically. They don't expect products to fulfill them or relationships to end all their problems. In fact, in the final interview of the segment, Safer was sitting across from a Danish man and remarked to him that when Americans find out the happiest place on earth is Denmark, they are going to want to move there. Without missing a beat, the Danish man looked at Morley and said "Well, honestly, they will probably be let down."
I don't mean to insinuate there are no minor climaxes to human stories. There are. A kid can try to make the football team and in a moment of climax see his name on the coach's list. A girl can want to get married and feel euphoric when the man of her dreams slides a ring on her finger. But these aren't the stories I'm talking about. These are substories. When the kid makes the football team, he is going to find out that playing football is hard, and he's going to find himself in the middle of yet another story. And the girl is going to wake up three months into her marriage and realize she is, in fact, still lonely, and so many of her issues haven't gone away. And if both of these people aren't careful, they're going to get depressed because they thought the climax to their substory was actually a climax to the human story, and it wasn't. The human story goes on.
Growing up in church, we were taught that Jesus was the answer to all of our problems. We were taught that there was a circle-shaped hole in our heart and that we had tried to fill it with square pegs of sex, drugs, and rock and roll; but only the circle peg of Jesus could fill our hole. I became a Christian based, in part, on this promise, but the hole never really went away. To be sure, I liked Jesus, and I still follow him, but the idea that Jesus will make everything better is a lie. It's basically biblical theology translated into the language of infomercials. The truth is, the apostles never really promise Jesis is going to make everything better here on earth. Can you imagine an infomercial with Paul, testifying to the amazing product of Jesus, saying that he once had power and authority, and since he tired Jesus he's been moved from prison to prison, beaten and routinely bitten by snakes? I don't think many people would be buying that product. Peter couldn't do any better He was crucified upside down, by some reports. Stephen was stoned outside the city gates. John, supposedly, was boiled in oil. It's hard to imagine how a religion steeped in so much pain and sacrifice turned into a promise for earthly euphoria. I think Jesus can make things better, but I don't think he is going to make things perfect. Not here, and not now.
What I love about the true gospel of Jesus, though, is that it offers hope. Paul has hope our souls will be made complete. It will happen in heaven, where there will be a wedding and a feast. I wonder if that's why so many happy stories end in weddings and feasts. Paul says Jesus is the hope that will not disappoint. I find that comforting. That helps me get through the day to be honest. It even makes me content somehow. Maybe that's what Paul meant when he said he'd learned the secret of contentment.
After the girl I dated had been in Switzerland for a while, and I continued to see a counselor, I realized that for years I'd though of love as something that would complete me, make all my troubles go away. I worshiped at the altar of romantic completion. And it had cost me, plenty of times. And it had cost most of the girls I'd dated too, because I wanted them to be something they couldn't be. It's too much pressure to put on a person. I think that's why so many couples fight, because they want their partners to validate them and affirm them, and if they don't get that, they feel as though they're going to die. And so they lash out. But it's a terrible thing to wake up and realize the person you just finished crucifying didn't turn out to be Jesus.
I was interviewing my friend Susan Isaacs after her book 'Angry Conversations with God' came out. We were in front of a live audience, and I was reading questions to her off o index cards submitted by the audience. Because so much of her book talks about relational needs, relational fulfillment and unfulfillment, one of the questions asked was whether she believed there was one true love for every person.
Susan essentially said no. And she said that with her husband sitting right there in the audience. She said her and her husband believed they were a cherished prize for each other, and they would probably drive any other people mad. But then she said something I thought was wise. She said she had married a guy, and he was just a guy. He wasn't going to make all her problems go away, because he was just a guy. And that freed her to really love him as a guy, not as an ultimate problem solver. And because her husband believed she was just a girl, he was free to really love her too. Neither needed the other to make everything okay. They were simply content to have good company through life's conflicts. I thought that was beautiful.
There is a lot of money and power to be had in convincing people we can create an Eden here on earth. Cults are formed when leaders make such absurd promises. Products are sold convincing people that they are missing out on the perfect life. And political groups tend to scare people by convincing them we are losing Eden, or inspire people by telling them we can rebuild what God had destroyed. We all get worked into a frenzy over things will not happen until Jesus returns. The truth is, we can make things a little better or a little worse, but utopia doesn't hang in the balance of our vote or of what products we buy.
All of this may sound depressing to you, but I don't mean it to be. I've lived some good stories now, and those stories have improved the quality of my life. But I've also let go of the idea things will ever be made perfect, at least while I am walking around on this planet. I've let go of the idea that this life has a climax. I'm trying to be more Danish, I guess. And the thing is, it works. When you stop expecting people to be perfect, you can like them for who they are. And when you stop expecting material possessions to complete you, you'd be surprised at how much pleasure you get in material possessions. And when you stop expecting God to end all your troubles, you'd be surprised how much you like spending time with God.
Do I still think there will be a day when all wrongs are made right, when our souls find the completion they are looking for? I do. But when all things are made right, it won't be because of some preacher or snake-oil salesman or politician or writer making promises in his book. I think, instead, this will be done by Jesus. And it will be at a wedding. And there will be a feast.
I'm convinced the most fantastical moment in story, the point when all the tension is finally relived, doesn't actually happen in real life. And I mean that seriously. I've thought about it fifty different ways, but I can't figure out how a human life actually climaxes so that everything on the other side of a particular moment is made to be okay. It happens all the time in movies and books, but it won't happen to me - and I'm sorry to say, it won't happen to you either.
Maybe the reason we like stories so much is because they deliver wish fulfillment. Maybe we sit in the dark and shovel sugar into our mouths because in so many stories everything is made right, and we secretly long for that ourselves.
It was touching when Steve, Ben and I realized what the climax to our movie was going to be. We've been writing toward it for more than a year, and we were practically in tears when we finally wrote that part of the script. It was a scene in which two characters met in confrontation, and one asked the other for forgiveness. We were back at Jim's house in Tennessee, sitting around his table. I was saying the words my character needed to say, Ben was adding dialogue from the other character, and Steve was typing it as fast as he could. Neither Ben nor I were looking at each other, because if we did we'd have cried - we'd have over character who didn't exist resolving a tension that never really happened. There's just something in the DNA of a human that responds to the idea of an event, a moment in which the upheaval we've all been working around is finally laid to rest.
But regardless how passionate the utopianists are, I simply don't believe utopia is going to happen. I don't believe we are going to be rescued. I don't believe an act of man will make things on earth perfect, and I don't believe God will intervene before I die, or for that matter before you die. I believe, instead, we will go on longing for a resolution that will not come, not within life as we know it, anyway.
If you think about it, an enormous amount of damage is created by the myth of utopia. There is an intrinsic feeling in nearly every person that your life could be perfect if you only had such-and0such a car or such-and-such a spouse or such-and-such a job. We believe we will be made whole by our accomplishments, our possessions, or our social status. It's written in the fabric of our DNA that life used to be beautiful and now it isn't, and if only this and if only that, it would be beautiful again.
I saw a story on '60 Minutes' a few months ago about the happiest country in the world. It was Denmark. A study done by a British university ranked the happiest countries, and America was far down the list, but Denmark was on the top. Morley Safer explored why. Ruling out financial status, physical health, and even social freedom, he landed on a single characteristic of the Danes that allowed them such contentment. The reason Danes are happy was this: they had low expectations.
I'm not making that up. There is something in Denmark's culture that allows them to look at life realistically. They don't expect products to fulfill them or relationships to end all their problems. In fact, in the final interview of the segment, Safer was sitting across from a Danish man and remarked to him that when Americans find out the happiest place on earth is Denmark, they are going to want to move there. Without missing a beat, the Danish man looked at Morley and said "Well, honestly, they will probably be let down."
I don't mean to insinuate there are no minor climaxes to human stories. There are. A kid can try to make the football team and in a moment of climax see his name on the coach's list. A girl can want to get married and feel euphoric when the man of her dreams slides a ring on her finger. But these aren't the stories I'm talking about. These are substories. When the kid makes the football team, he is going to find out that playing football is hard, and he's going to find himself in the middle of yet another story. And the girl is going to wake up three months into her marriage and realize she is, in fact, still lonely, and so many of her issues haven't gone away. And if both of these people aren't careful, they're going to get depressed because they thought the climax to their substory was actually a climax to the human story, and it wasn't. The human story goes on.
Growing up in church, we were taught that Jesus was the answer to all of our problems. We were taught that there was a circle-shaped hole in our heart and that we had tried to fill it with square pegs of sex, drugs, and rock and roll; but only the circle peg of Jesus could fill our hole. I became a Christian based, in part, on this promise, but the hole never really went away. To be sure, I liked Jesus, and I still follow him, but the idea that Jesus will make everything better is a lie. It's basically biblical theology translated into the language of infomercials. The truth is, the apostles never really promise Jesis is going to make everything better here on earth. Can you imagine an infomercial with Paul, testifying to the amazing product of Jesus, saying that he once had power and authority, and since he tired Jesus he's been moved from prison to prison, beaten and routinely bitten by snakes? I don't think many people would be buying that product. Peter couldn't do any better He was crucified upside down, by some reports. Stephen was stoned outside the city gates. John, supposedly, was boiled in oil. It's hard to imagine how a religion steeped in so much pain and sacrifice turned into a promise for earthly euphoria. I think Jesus can make things better, but I don't think he is going to make things perfect. Not here, and not now.
What I love about the true gospel of Jesus, though, is that it offers hope. Paul has hope our souls will be made complete. It will happen in heaven, where there will be a wedding and a feast. I wonder if that's why so many happy stories end in weddings and feasts. Paul says Jesus is the hope that will not disappoint. I find that comforting. That helps me get through the day to be honest. It even makes me content somehow. Maybe that's what Paul meant when he said he'd learned the secret of contentment.
After the girl I dated had been in Switzerland for a while, and I continued to see a counselor, I realized that for years I'd though of love as something that would complete me, make all my troubles go away. I worshiped at the altar of romantic completion. And it had cost me, plenty of times. And it had cost most of the girls I'd dated too, because I wanted them to be something they couldn't be. It's too much pressure to put on a person. I think that's why so many couples fight, because they want their partners to validate them and affirm them, and if they don't get that, they feel as though they're going to die. And so they lash out. But it's a terrible thing to wake up and realize the person you just finished crucifying didn't turn out to be Jesus.
I was interviewing my friend Susan Isaacs after her book 'Angry Conversations with God' came out. We were in front of a live audience, and I was reading questions to her off o index cards submitted by the audience. Because so much of her book talks about relational needs, relational fulfillment and unfulfillment, one of the questions asked was whether she believed there was one true love for every person.
Susan essentially said no. And she said that with her husband sitting right there in the audience. She said her and her husband believed they were a cherished prize for each other, and they would probably drive any other people mad. But then she said something I thought was wise. She said she had married a guy, and he was just a guy. He wasn't going to make all her problems go away, because he was just a guy. And that freed her to really love him as a guy, not as an ultimate problem solver. And because her husband believed she was just a girl, he was free to really love her too. Neither needed the other to make everything okay. They were simply content to have good company through life's conflicts. I thought that was beautiful.
There is a lot of money and power to be had in convincing people we can create an Eden here on earth. Cults are formed when leaders make such absurd promises. Products are sold convincing people that they are missing out on the perfect life. And political groups tend to scare people by convincing them we are losing Eden, or inspire people by telling them we can rebuild what God had destroyed. We all get worked into a frenzy over things will not happen until Jesus returns. The truth is, we can make things a little better or a little worse, but utopia doesn't hang in the balance of our vote or of what products we buy.
All of this may sound depressing to you, but I don't mean it to be. I've lived some good stories now, and those stories have improved the quality of my life. But I've also let go of the idea things will ever be made perfect, at least while I am walking around on this planet. I've let go of the idea that this life has a climax. I'm trying to be more Danish, I guess. And the thing is, it works. When you stop expecting people to be perfect, you can like them for who they are. And when you stop expecting material possessions to complete you, you'd be surprised at how much pleasure you get in material possessions. And when you stop expecting God to end all your troubles, you'd be surprised how much you like spending time with God.
Do I still think there will be a day when all wrongs are made right, when our souls find the completion they are looking for? I do. But when all things are made right, it won't be because of some preacher or snake-oil salesman or politician or writer making promises in his book. I think, instead, this will be done by Jesus. And it will be at a wedding. And there will be a feast.
A Rose of Light and of Love
I need something beautiful just so I can save it,
save it and return myself
some of the dignity I sold
when I gave up and gave in
to the lie that I was nothing more
than just a puppet to my sin
and a slave to my every whim.
I'm ready to believe,
to feel something real
and to know
to simply know
that I can have a reprieve
and You died that I might live
and return this pain
with a white rose of peace
and a red rose of love.
Goodnight,
goodbye
take care my love
and know
you never walked alone.
save it and return myself
some of the dignity I sold
when I gave up and gave in
to the lie that I was nothing more
than just a puppet to my sin
and a slave to my every whim.
I'm ready to believe,
to feel something real
and to know
to simply know
that I can have a reprieve
and You died that I might live
and return this pain
with a white rose of peace
and a red rose of love.
Goodnight,
goodbye
take care my love
and know
you never walked alone.
"I Never Wanted" - As I Lay Dying
I never wanted
And I never cared before
Now take it all back
This is a new day
How I long to regress
To the days before I took upon myself
The obsessions of this world
A day of innocence equating beauty
For tomorrow may fall
And today is already gone
Now take it back
This is a new day
I've grown tired of chasing
Convinced I was in need
And now the years I've spent
Only a slave to this
Tomorrow may fall
And today is already gone
I will no longer adore
These things that will never satisfy me
Now take it back
This is a new day
I have seen my world change
And then go back to where it came
In this vicious circle
We are all brought back to life
Only to die again
But without these barren obsessions
I am simply free
And I never cared before
Now take it all back
This is a new day
How I long to regress
To the days before I took upon myself
The obsessions of this world
A day of innocence equating beauty
For tomorrow may fall
And today is already gone
Now take it back
This is a new day
I've grown tired of chasing
Convinced I was in need
And now the years I've spent
Only a slave to this
Tomorrow may fall
And today is already gone
I will no longer adore
These things that will never satisfy me
Now take it back
This is a new day
I have seen my world change
And then go back to where it came
In this vicious circle
We are all brought back to life
Only to die again
But without these barren obsessions
I am simply free
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Prayer for Salvation
You win some.
You loose some.
And other times your mind runs ahead of itself and into tangents that were pointless to begin with.
Clarity.
Focus.
A deep breath.
The darkness of the soul thrives on the chaos embodied in confusion.
It is hate which seeks control.
It is rage at the injustice.
It is the Dark Ones in the shadows which seek to reach and latch onto my soul.
My anger is no resolve for holiness.
It merely opens up the floodgates to the evil around me.
The sonic explosion of my scream as I turn against you and beat my fists into your mind, into your soul and rip apart your emotional immaturity is nothing but the source of the villainy inside of me.
I talk an excellent game of spiritual hypocrisy as my soul instantly runs to rage at the second I loose my footing.
I seek my own will, I see my own path, I want the world, I want the mindless self indulgence and as soon as I receive what I beg for...I explode in rage. I sell my soul at a cheap discount price to this world's religious whores for useless change.
I hate all of you.
This world will burn with the fuel of my senseless and depraved ego.
And why?
So I might make a mark?
Rage, seething and useless rage.
Rage that I let consume my heart, like the cancerous lust that forms the base of my mindless addictions. None of you reading this will understand, can understand the processes of my mental faculties because it would require you to listen beyond what is comfortable.
I want to destroy the world with my rage.
But my desire is to burn this tower of Babel I built with my hands.
This profane and perverse altar of Baal that I am willing to cut my wrists and bleed over as a sacrifice.
I want to eradicate this altar to Moloch on which I sacrificed my childhood innocence and what was stolen from me by the bastard demons that I see mocking me from the shadows.
Rage.
Furious rage.
An exhaustive collection of self entitled redundancy that I cannot possibly explain because you will never bother to try and look to see things through my eyes.
I want to throw up, I want to be sick just so I can get this poison out of my system. I want a cure that will let me never hurt inside, that will deliver me from every emotional insecurity and make me invincible when it comes from this ever so false sweet words that were nothing more than lies contrived to fool me into believing in the fragile and useless human heart.
I want my rage, I want my wrath to have no end but ultimately I am just as useless as I am weak.
I lay in wasted pain as I throw up the poison in my lungs and I cry for help.
I cry because I do not know why I am angry.
Do I have a right to spit venom because I wear my heart on my sleeve?
Do I have right to wage war because I cannot control my mind?
Because I refuse to control my mind?
Do I have fair access to violence to use in destroying the evil in me?
Love is the only cure for this useless disease of hate that consume my body, my mind, my soul, my entire being...every breath I take is corrupted, every thought is weak and I lay down and simply cry.
I am lost without You.
Everything else is useless.
I wasted breath on useless things.
I cried out to You and need to be rescued.
I want to be cut out of this reality and returned to You.
I want to feel my spirit leave while it can, I no longer know why I have fought.
I just know that You are You and all I want.
Rip my desires away, tear away this torn soul that lays in tatters. I do not want to desire this anymore...I not longer want to feel the need for any intimacy outside of Yours. I don't want to be touched, I no longer want to feel...I just want to feel the full power of Your wrath against the sins I refuse to repent of.
Destroy me.
Smite my existence into nothing.
Bring me into the lower levels of Hell so I will no longer be.
Break apart every molecule, split every cell and divide every corrupted atom that composes my existence.
Destroy me before I spread the plague of my hate.
And rebuild me.
Create me anew.
Make me good, make me pure like only You can.
I can do nothing expect pray for solace, pray Your love endures my senseless pride.
I am lost about what to do.
My plans are nothing.
I am nothing less than a broken tool in a war against life.
Convert me.
Beat me from a sword into a plow-sheer.
I've seen everyone around as being part of some utterly useless game.
I've seen and felt emotions that were ultimately a part of nothing more than the false reality my mind created for me to live in. As soon as reality hits the cracks appear and blossom into this ugly red thing that is my blood pouring steady from the black lined veins.
I see the spider in my heart, the unholiness that seeks my will as its own.
I can't pray for You to forgive me Father because I knew, I knew going in the addiction and the hate I feel when things do not work. I know how useless and ultimately pointless every relationship, every connection is.
They leave or more often than not simply die.
It's the root of my insecurity, I want humans to last and to be God for me. I want to be treated like a child and feel my hand being pulled when all I have left is this soul, this beaten soul covered in mud.
Can You still clean me up?
Do You even want me still?
Why, why did You die for worthless scum like me?
Why did You create this disgusting race of humanity?
We're not even worth the dignity of being stepped on like a cockroach.
We have achieved nothing and will only succeed in killing ourselves faster by the second.
How are we made in Your image, when all we do is eradicate?
Are we just made to die?
Don't leave things as they are.
Don't let things remain.
Break me, destroy me, rip me asunder and make me a tool for You.
Make me something that will heal instead of destroy.
My life is worthless.
Save me, heal me or eradicate me before I take the task into my own hands.
I cannot be content with going halfway.
You know my heart and how much hurt I suffer from trusting and giving it away to things that never had a right to hold it. All I wanted was a perfect cherry blossom in a world that only burns and eats at the beauty in it.
I want to vent my venom and rage by ripping the demons apart with my bleeding hands. I want to fulfill my need for senseless hate by creating the next generation of broken.
Everything is spinning, falling and twisting out of control.
Jesus, Jesus, I know I'm not alone.
I know I have never been alone.
I know others will stand with me but it still hurts.
I feel isolated.
Like my soul is being eaten by cancer.
Please do not leave me here.
Give me my task,
send me now.
Do you not see the angst,
the anguish shredding my soul to pieces?
I want to love but I want to leave this Hell!
I hate it here,
I can't stand the feelings of isolation,
knowing I'm abandonment
and knowing these feelings will only worsen.
Jesus, this world is so fucked up.
All the innocents raped and murdered
and somehow,
somehow this is Your perfect will?
Hold me Jesus.
I only have You.
I will only have You.
I wasn't made to hug others
so please hold me.
Take me in Your arms,
give me a holy kiss
and purify me of me.
I want to give You me,
give You my soul all over again.
My body, my mind, my heart
and my everything.
Make this new day new.
Like only you can do.
Abba, Father, Lover
take this soul.
Forever and forevermore.
You loose some.
And other times your mind runs ahead of itself and into tangents that were pointless to begin with.
Clarity.
Focus.
A deep breath.
The darkness of the soul thrives on the chaos embodied in confusion.
It is hate which seeks control.
It is rage at the injustice.
It is the Dark Ones in the shadows which seek to reach and latch onto my soul.
My anger is no resolve for holiness.
It merely opens up the floodgates to the evil around me.
The sonic explosion of my scream as I turn against you and beat my fists into your mind, into your soul and rip apart your emotional immaturity is nothing but the source of the villainy inside of me.
I talk an excellent game of spiritual hypocrisy as my soul instantly runs to rage at the second I loose my footing.
I seek my own will, I see my own path, I want the world, I want the mindless self indulgence and as soon as I receive what I beg for...I explode in rage. I sell my soul at a cheap discount price to this world's religious whores for useless change.
I hate all of you.
This world will burn with the fuel of my senseless and depraved ego.
And why?
So I might make a mark?
Rage, seething and useless rage.
Rage that I let consume my heart, like the cancerous lust that forms the base of my mindless addictions. None of you reading this will understand, can understand the processes of my mental faculties because it would require you to listen beyond what is comfortable.
I want to destroy the world with my rage.
But my desire is to burn this tower of Babel I built with my hands.
This profane and perverse altar of Baal that I am willing to cut my wrists and bleed over as a sacrifice.
I want to eradicate this altar to Moloch on which I sacrificed my childhood innocence and what was stolen from me by the bastard demons that I see mocking me from the shadows.
Rage.
Furious rage.
An exhaustive collection of self entitled redundancy that I cannot possibly explain because you will never bother to try and look to see things through my eyes.
I want to throw up, I want to be sick just so I can get this poison out of my system. I want a cure that will let me never hurt inside, that will deliver me from every emotional insecurity and make me invincible when it comes from this ever so false sweet words that were nothing more than lies contrived to fool me into believing in the fragile and useless human heart.
I want my rage, I want my wrath to have no end but ultimately I am just as useless as I am weak.
I lay in wasted pain as I throw up the poison in my lungs and I cry for help.
I cry because I do not know why I am angry.
Do I have a right to spit venom because I wear my heart on my sleeve?
Do I have right to wage war because I cannot control my mind?
Because I refuse to control my mind?
Do I have fair access to violence to use in destroying the evil in me?
Love is the only cure for this useless disease of hate that consume my body, my mind, my soul, my entire being...every breath I take is corrupted, every thought is weak and I lay down and simply cry.
I am lost without You.
Everything else is useless.
I wasted breath on useless things.
I cried out to You and need to be rescued.
I want to be cut out of this reality and returned to You.
I want to feel my spirit leave while it can, I no longer know why I have fought.
I just know that You are You and all I want.
Rip my desires away, tear away this torn soul that lays in tatters. I do not want to desire this anymore...I not longer want to feel the need for any intimacy outside of Yours. I don't want to be touched, I no longer want to feel...I just want to feel the full power of Your wrath against the sins I refuse to repent of.
Destroy me.
Smite my existence into nothing.
Bring me into the lower levels of Hell so I will no longer be.
Break apart every molecule, split every cell and divide every corrupted atom that composes my existence.
Destroy me before I spread the plague of my hate.
And rebuild me.
Create me anew.
Make me good, make me pure like only You can.
I can do nothing expect pray for solace, pray Your love endures my senseless pride.
I am lost about what to do.
My plans are nothing.
I am nothing less than a broken tool in a war against life.
Convert me.
Beat me from a sword into a plow-sheer.
I've seen everyone around as being part of some utterly useless game.
I've seen and felt emotions that were ultimately a part of nothing more than the false reality my mind created for me to live in. As soon as reality hits the cracks appear and blossom into this ugly red thing that is my blood pouring steady from the black lined veins.
I see the spider in my heart, the unholiness that seeks my will as its own.
I can't pray for You to forgive me Father because I knew, I knew going in the addiction and the hate I feel when things do not work. I know how useless and ultimately pointless every relationship, every connection is.
They leave or more often than not simply die.
It's the root of my insecurity, I want humans to last and to be God for me. I want to be treated like a child and feel my hand being pulled when all I have left is this soul, this beaten soul covered in mud.
Can You still clean me up?
Do You even want me still?
Why, why did You die for worthless scum like me?
Why did You create this disgusting race of humanity?
We're not even worth the dignity of being stepped on like a cockroach.
We have achieved nothing and will only succeed in killing ourselves faster by the second.
How are we made in Your image, when all we do is eradicate?
Are we just made to die?
Don't leave things as they are.
Don't let things remain.
Break me, destroy me, rip me asunder and make me a tool for You.
Make me something that will heal instead of destroy.
My life is worthless.
Save me, heal me or eradicate me before I take the task into my own hands.
I cannot be content with going halfway.
You know my heart and how much hurt I suffer from trusting and giving it away to things that never had a right to hold it. All I wanted was a perfect cherry blossom in a world that only burns and eats at the beauty in it.
I want to vent my venom and rage by ripping the demons apart with my bleeding hands. I want to fulfill my need for senseless hate by creating the next generation of broken.
Everything is spinning, falling and twisting out of control.
Jesus, Jesus, I know I'm not alone.
I know I have never been alone.
I know others will stand with me but it still hurts.
I feel isolated.
Like my soul is being eaten by cancer.
Please do not leave me here.
Give me my task,
send me now.
Do you not see the angst,
the anguish shredding my soul to pieces?
I want to love but I want to leave this Hell!
I hate it here,
I can't stand the feelings of isolation,
knowing I'm abandonment
and knowing these feelings will only worsen.
Jesus, this world is so fucked up.
All the innocents raped and murdered
and somehow,
somehow this is Your perfect will?
Hold me Jesus.
I only have You.
I will only have You.
I wasn't made to hug others
so please hold me.
Take me in Your arms,
give me a holy kiss
and purify me of me.
I want to give You me,
give You my soul all over again.
My body, my mind, my heart
and my everything.
Make this new day new.
Like only you can do.
Abba, Father, Lover
take this soul.
Forever and forevermore.
1 John 1
What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the Word of Life--and the life was manifested, and we have seen and testify and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was manifested to us--what we have seen and heard we proclaim to you also, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ. These things we write, so that our joy may be made complete.
This is the message we have heard from Him and announce to you, that God is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with Him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth; but if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar and His word is not in us.
This is the message we have heard from Him and announce to you, that God is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with Him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth; but if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar and His word is not in us.
"Day of Pigs" - Roper
Saturday
I could feet the crowd's dismay
They've acquired quite a fire
to burn the profane on a funeral pyre
Voices shrill
cutting silence like they mean to kill
Some pep rally where we scream His name
like God was loosing in a football game
I don't want to waste His name this time
I will never cast Him to the swine
(Grasping at some feeling you once knew
is nothing sacred ever safe with you?)
Silver tongues
all the spirit of an iron lung
Selling highs as if we needed one
Flash the lights so not be outdone
Counterfeit
wanting joy so much we take a hit
like a tapeworm deep in hunger digs
Waste the sacred just to feed these pigs
I don't want to waste His name this time
I will never cast Him to the swine
(Grasping at some feeling you once knew
is nothing sacred ever safe with you?)
If this is real, then you must find it
between the space of grace and grim
It's nothing you can manufacture
your walls cannot contain Him
Fire Encasing my Soul
I feel You tonight,
just tonight
I hear that voice
that called me,
called out to me at creation
speaking unspeakable wonders
as I drifted alone,
never knowing a soul,
never knowing I was made
just made for something so much more.
I'm drunk off our love,
the grace that bought me
the mercy that saved me
I'm casting about
with no footing
praying I find You
at the end of this long night.
This closer to death
I never felt more alive
hearing You call
and feeling the touch
knowing this world is crashing
and soon,
so very soon the veil of the sky
will be ripped back
and torn in two
just like in the temple
and no more will we cry alone,
no more hurt
no more disease.
No longer will we feel alone
but this divide
that seemingly was eternal
will be cast aside
and Love,
perfect, pure, infinite Love
filling my sight
and filling me
with such love
that I'm drunk again.
I can't stand,
move or talk,
I lay here overwhelmed
knowing that,
knowing what it means
to be forever loved.
just tonight
I hear that voice
that called me,
called out to me at creation
speaking unspeakable wonders
as I drifted alone,
never knowing a soul,
never knowing I was made
just made for something so much more.
I'm drunk off our love,
the grace that bought me
the mercy that saved me
I'm casting about
with no footing
praying I find You
at the end of this long night.
This closer to death
I never felt more alive
hearing You call
and feeling the touch
knowing this world is crashing
and soon,
so very soon the veil of the sky
will be ripped back
and torn in two
just like in the temple
and no more will we cry alone,
no more hurt
no more disease.
No longer will we feel alone
but this divide
that seemingly was eternal
will be cast aside
and Love,
perfect, pure, infinite Love
filling my sight
and filling me
with such love
that I'm drunk again.
I can't stand,
move or talk,
I lay here overwhelmed
knowing that,
knowing what it means
to be forever loved.
Quote of the Day:
"If one does not know to which port one is sailing, no wind is favourable."
-Seneca
-Seneca
Old Thoughts, Fears Beloved Run Amuck
I have such a way of viewing things...that I am surprised I have as many relationships as I have.
Am I not being true to myself?
Or to Jesus?
I don't like to offend people but my Love is something I will never compromise on...I can't stand the thought of how my sins have caused so much infinite pain...so I refuse to see out my Love just to make life easier.
I want to love like I never have been able to, I want to change so I can be more of a light to the world...I want to go Home so badly but I'm here for a reason...I'm so tired, my body aches so completely and my soul is exhausted...Father, give me strength to run this race.
I want to give up, I want to quit, I want to simply lay down so my body can give up this spirit and allow me freedom.
I want to be taken from this shell and brought to You.
I want to touch You.
I am a man of unclean lips, my ways have never been Your ways, I am no better than my fathers, I deserve so much worse...and yet You have rescued me from this Hell. You have lifted me out of this mud, You have wiped my soul clean, You have forgiven me of a multitude of sin.
How can I begin to respond?
In fear, holy terror of Your infinite love and how You can easily save as destroy me, how You forgive me as You hold me.
Thank You for never making salvation performance based, thank You for choosing me, for loving me, for saving me...God, Jesus, thank You so much...thank You so much.
I feel hope in my chest, in between the moments of pain and fear...I feel such vivid hope.
In the middle of this dark night, in the middle of my pains You take me, You break me, You love me, You complete me.
No human can do this.
No woman, no friends, no nothing, nothing at all can make my soul burn like You do.
I'm a fool for never realizing how desperately I'm in love with You and will be the rest of my days.
It feels foolish but I wish to dance, I want to loose myself in this live, I want to die so I can live again in You...I want to see Matthew Pike die and vanish for good and just this old man be gone so You can remake me.
I'm tired of the old sins, I'm tired of being human, I'm tired of being so sick, I'm so very exhausted from being human. I want to be new, I want to be made clean.
Please.
There is no one like you, there never could be, You are so beautiful, so perfect, so beyond any comprehension.
Saying You are love is an insult, saying you are grace and good are never enough...You are so beyond anything I could imagine.
You first went to that nine year old kid to save him...and then you called that frightened fourteen year old to serve You.
Why?
I can't pretend to understand it...I can't.
I want to...but as always Your beauty and mystery elude my feeble mind.
I want to lay here...and just breath deep while I can.
Take this hate away, take away my fear.
Be my vision, my sight, my hands and feet.
Cleanse me like only You can.
Dear Jesus, love me like only You can oh Lover,
hold me close and teach me what it means to love.
Am I not being true to myself?
Or to Jesus?
I don't like to offend people but my Love is something I will never compromise on...I can't stand the thought of how my sins have caused so much infinite pain...so I refuse to see out my Love just to make life easier.
I want to love like I never have been able to, I want to change so I can be more of a light to the world...I want to go Home so badly but I'm here for a reason...I'm so tired, my body aches so completely and my soul is exhausted...Father, give me strength to run this race.
I want to give up, I want to quit, I want to simply lay down so my body can give up this spirit and allow me freedom.
I want to be taken from this shell and brought to You.
I want to touch You.
I am a man of unclean lips, my ways have never been Your ways, I am no better than my fathers, I deserve so much worse...and yet You have rescued me from this Hell. You have lifted me out of this mud, You have wiped my soul clean, You have forgiven me of a multitude of sin.
How can I begin to respond?
In fear, holy terror of Your infinite love and how You can easily save as destroy me, how You forgive me as You hold me.
Thank You for never making salvation performance based, thank You for choosing me, for loving me, for saving me...God, Jesus, thank You so much...thank You so much.
I feel hope in my chest, in between the moments of pain and fear...I feel such vivid hope.
In the middle of this dark night, in the middle of my pains You take me, You break me, You love me, You complete me.
No human can do this.
No woman, no friends, no nothing, nothing at all can make my soul burn like You do.
I'm a fool for never realizing how desperately I'm in love with You and will be the rest of my days.
It feels foolish but I wish to dance, I want to loose myself in this live, I want to die so I can live again in You...I want to see Matthew Pike die and vanish for good and just this old man be gone so You can remake me.
I'm tired of the old sins, I'm tired of being human, I'm tired of being so sick, I'm so very exhausted from being human. I want to be new, I want to be made clean.
Please.
There is no one like you, there never could be, You are so beautiful, so perfect, so beyond any comprehension.
Saying You are love is an insult, saying you are grace and good are never enough...You are so beyond anything I could imagine.
You first went to that nine year old kid to save him...and then you called that frightened fourteen year old to serve You.
Why?
I can't pretend to understand it...I can't.
I want to...but as always Your beauty and mystery elude my feeble mind.
I want to lay here...and just breath deep while I can.
Take this hate away, take away my fear.
Be my vision, my sight, my hands and feet.
Cleanse me like only You can.
Dear Jesus, love me like only You can oh Lover,
hold me close and teach me what it means to love.
This whole health thing is driving me crazy...one minute I feel amazing and the next I'll feel as though I have been ran over by a metaphorical truck that forget that it shouldn't exist in reality.
And...most people confuse me.
There are only a handful of people I trust...some I'll never understand how they worked under my skin and armor...but they are there for better or for worse.
I'm not complaining, at least I do not think I am trying to complain.
I want peace, I need hope and I'm lost without Your love oh Lover.
Temporal human love baffles me...I don't understand the intrinsic draw that makes people wish to commit to something that they know is doomed from the start. There is a selfish part of me that wishes the only fellowship I was created for was with God...that way I could avoid all of these awkward and painful moments with people.
Hugs hurt because they are fading, temporal symbols that won't endure the night. They aren't made to...and so the problem is partly mine for putting the desire for the eternal on things so temporal.
Do people even stop to think what Heaven is?
No more division from God, pure love with no bound as we are brought close to Yahweh.
I can think of so many pointless and trivial that feel like they just burn away in the presence of the Father.
It's a terrifying thought of being united with the Holy one who knows no sin, who destroys everything unclean out of holy and just wrath, knowing that nothing I can do can make Him love me more or less...and I can just go on because there is just so much good mixed with fear.
He isn't a tame Lion, He is fierce and beautiful.
I want to love so deeply that everything else becomes nothing, the rubbish and trash it is.
And...most people confuse me.
There are only a handful of people I trust...some I'll never understand how they worked under my skin and armor...but they are there for better or for worse.
I'm not complaining, at least I do not think I am trying to complain.
I want peace, I need hope and I'm lost without Your love oh Lover.
Temporal human love baffles me...I don't understand the intrinsic draw that makes people wish to commit to something that they know is doomed from the start. There is a selfish part of me that wishes the only fellowship I was created for was with God...that way I could avoid all of these awkward and painful moments with people.
Hugs hurt because they are fading, temporal symbols that won't endure the night. They aren't made to...and so the problem is partly mine for putting the desire for the eternal on things so temporal.
Do people even stop to think what Heaven is?
No more division from God, pure love with no bound as we are brought close to Yahweh.
I can think of so many pointless and trivial that feel like they just burn away in the presence of the Father.
It's a terrifying thought of being united with the Holy one who knows no sin, who destroys everything unclean out of holy and just wrath, knowing that nothing I can do can make Him love me more or less...and I can just go on because there is just so much good mixed with fear.
He isn't a tame Lion, He is fierce and beautiful.
I want to love so deeply that everything else becomes nothing, the rubbish and trash it is.
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