Saturday, October 31, 2009
NANOWRIMO 2009
Fall is in full bloom.
The weather is getting colder, leaves are changing color and what little sunlight I see is decreased even more dramatically.
For some people that means it is game season, a lot of people go to stadiums and yell at these people dressed up weird colored shirts and helmets as people get upset and throw stuff at their tv's. As hard as I've tried I simply do not understand what is so exciting about watching people play when I can do something.
For me, that something is the season of novel writing.
A sacred time of thirty days in which the skies part and the impossible becomes possible. Rules are broken, time is bent, large quantities of caffeine is consumed and stories are written during this month.
National Novel Writing Month (http://www.nanowrimo.org/) is the eleventh annual world wide insane competition that has the goal of writing a fifty thousand word first draft novel in the thirty days of November.
This is an absolutely insane idea that deserves large quantities of criticism and disbelieving looks. It is a ridiculous concept that works however. This will be my third year participating and to be honest I nearly gave up and decided to not write.
The past several years have been absolutely insane and this year has been one medical and social drama after another...and the past week has been especially difficult. Just like every person who never succeed I have every reason to not try...I'm poor, broke, jobless, sick, tired, sleepless, contradictory, confusing, sometimes heretical, oftentimes confused and...so on and so forth.
I can't speak for anyone else...but I know people have their little lifelines that they turn to so that they stay sane. For me writing and music are divine activities that keep me from going completely off the deep end...I don't know how or why...but I have this deep spiritual connection in being able to write to really loud music...I find this almost zen like place where I can shove all of this world's crap away and almost begin to see not just me...but the way in which the world was meant to be.
I can't find the exact quote but Stephen King in one of his novel introductions (one of the Dark Tower books I believe) mentions how writers are inherently selfish creatures that write for one of two reasons:
1.For others.
2.For themselves.
In a lot of ways I feel I fall into the second...that would explain my extreme abuse of the pronouns "I" and "me". I love it so much when I have someone send me a message saying a poem, story or essay I wrote touched someone's life...it made them think deeper or even just made them really angry with me and they wanted to tell me why I'm going to Hell for being a heretic. I mean, some sort of response and commentary is nice...but at the end of the day if I was just locked into a dark room with a word processor and a mixed tape of Daft Punk and The Clash I would write until I passed out.
I'm a selfish being who is still trying to figure out who he is and where I am in this absolutely insane world...part of that process is in writing. Writing itself is an amalgamation of every experince a person has that gets turned into something else. No book you have ever read has simply been churned out in draft...it's an incredibly painful process of rewriting and revising which can last for years...and all of it is in pursuit of some idea of identity.
One of my favorite quotes from the film adaptation of 'V for Vendetta' is that "...artists use lies to tell the truth, while politicians use them to cover the truth up."
Although a story has a lot of influence from the writer's own life (see anything written by Franz Kafka or Elie Wiesel if you want a good example of how horror can come from the soul) oftentimes the revising process takes out the fluff and adds in story.
So I could say no to writing...could crawl back into my shell and hurt...or face these demons and laugh at them. Like Martin Luther said "The best way to drive out the devil, if he will not yield to texts of Scripture, is to jeer and flout him, for he cannot bear scorn."
I am still not sure of myself, where I'm going or if I am going to get there...I just know that there comes a time to draw a line in the sand and push back. This may be a struggle that goes on in my mind and soul...but it is a battle all the same. Maybe it is overly dramatic...but those who have dealt with chronic illnesses know what I'm talking about.
Life isn't always the happiest place to be...and the more you learn the easier it is to become bitter and cynical...but there comes a point to where you just have to let go and be yourself. There is no sense to hold onto false images of yourself because if you aren't going to make the effort to take care of yourself...no one will.
So in a way NANOWRIMO is therapy...just like writing poetry, essays and blogging at 3AM. Just like playing the bass, listening to ska and dancing across my room while my cat looks on in fascinated horror.
I have two novels from NANOWRIMO which are in various stages of rewrite. They form the basis from some rather grand attempt of mine to start a series about the end of the world and a group of heroes royally screwing things up so bad that the world gets taken over. I'm not sure what will become of that series.
In fact I'm still not sure of what I'll be writing about come midnight tonight.
I have several different ideas for stories...but still no real solid idea.
Some possible things I may explore:
-Romantic comedy of some sort.
-A musician (bass player of course) finally making it in a band.
-A guy so immersed in the world of an online RPG his life takes on a surreal quality where the lines between reality and fiction blur so totally that he isn't able to distinguish between reality and the role play relationships in a game.
-The sequel to that previous idea that a friend jokingly said she would write and my sequel would involve the two in a relationship and trying to make things world while a zombie uprising happens.
-A third book in my as of not yet series,
-A sort of play on the sniper character from the game 'Borderlands' I've been playing recently with my best friend James.
-A surreal first person story about a guy who wakes up in his apartment and is unable to escape (think Silent Hill like psychological horror).
-All of the ideas mixed together with an extra helping of George A. Romero zombies sprinkled in.
Goodness...I don't know.
Time is ticking away and the word count is looming in the distance as I stare it down and I am readying my sources of caffeine and my determination to win this.
As a last note I want to thank my brave friends who have decided to embark on this crazy venture with me...it's always nice to have people along when you are busy loosing your mind!
Onward to noveling victory my friends!
The weather is getting colder, leaves are changing color and what little sunlight I see is decreased even more dramatically.
For some people that means it is game season, a lot of people go to stadiums and yell at these people dressed up weird colored shirts and helmets as people get upset and throw stuff at their tv's. As hard as I've tried I simply do not understand what is so exciting about watching people play when I can do something.
For me, that something is the season of novel writing.
A sacred time of thirty days in which the skies part and the impossible becomes possible. Rules are broken, time is bent, large quantities of caffeine is consumed and stories are written during this month.
National Novel Writing Month (http://www.nanowrimo.org/) is the eleventh annual world wide insane competition that has the goal of writing a fifty thousand word first draft novel in the thirty days of November.
This is an absolutely insane idea that deserves large quantities of criticism and disbelieving looks. It is a ridiculous concept that works however. This will be my third year participating and to be honest I nearly gave up and decided to not write.
The past several years have been absolutely insane and this year has been one medical and social drama after another...and the past week has been especially difficult. Just like every person who never succeed I have every reason to not try...I'm poor, broke, jobless, sick, tired, sleepless, contradictory, confusing, sometimes heretical, oftentimes confused and...so on and so forth.
I can't speak for anyone else...but I know people have their little lifelines that they turn to so that they stay sane. For me writing and music are divine activities that keep me from going completely off the deep end...I don't know how or why...but I have this deep spiritual connection in being able to write to really loud music...I find this almost zen like place where I can shove all of this world's crap away and almost begin to see not just me...but the way in which the world was meant to be.
I can't find the exact quote but Stephen King in one of his novel introductions (one of the Dark Tower books I believe) mentions how writers are inherently selfish creatures that write for one of two reasons:
1.For others.
2.For themselves.
In a lot of ways I feel I fall into the second...that would explain my extreme abuse of the pronouns "I" and "me". I love it so much when I have someone send me a message saying a poem, story or essay I wrote touched someone's life...it made them think deeper or even just made them really angry with me and they wanted to tell me why I'm going to Hell for being a heretic. I mean, some sort of response and commentary is nice...but at the end of the day if I was just locked into a dark room with a word processor and a mixed tape of Daft Punk and The Clash I would write until I passed out.
I'm a selfish being who is still trying to figure out who he is and where I am in this absolutely insane world...part of that process is in writing. Writing itself is an amalgamation of every experince a person has that gets turned into something else. No book you have ever read has simply been churned out in draft...it's an incredibly painful process of rewriting and revising which can last for years...and all of it is in pursuit of some idea of identity.
One of my favorite quotes from the film adaptation of 'V for Vendetta' is that "...artists use lies to tell the truth, while politicians use them to cover the truth up."
Although a story has a lot of influence from the writer's own life (see anything written by Franz Kafka or Elie Wiesel if you want a good example of how horror can come from the soul) oftentimes the revising process takes out the fluff and adds in story.
So I could say no to writing...could crawl back into my shell and hurt...or face these demons and laugh at them. Like Martin Luther said "The best way to drive out the devil, if he will not yield to texts of Scripture, is to jeer and flout him, for he cannot bear scorn."
I am still not sure of myself, where I'm going or if I am going to get there...I just know that there comes a time to draw a line in the sand and push back. This may be a struggle that goes on in my mind and soul...but it is a battle all the same. Maybe it is overly dramatic...but those who have dealt with chronic illnesses know what I'm talking about.
Life isn't always the happiest place to be...and the more you learn the easier it is to become bitter and cynical...but there comes a point to where you just have to let go and be yourself. There is no sense to hold onto false images of yourself because if you aren't going to make the effort to take care of yourself...no one will.
So in a way NANOWRIMO is therapy...just like writing poetry, essays and blogging at 3AM. Just like playing the bass, listening to ska and dancing across my room while my cat looks on in fascinated horror.
I have two novels from NANOWRIMO which are in various stages of rewrite. They form the basis from some rather grand attempt of mine to start a series about the end of the world and a group of heroes royally screwing things up so bad that the world gets taken over. I'm not sure what will become of that series.
In fact I'm still not sure of what I'll be writing about come midnight tonight.
I have several different ideas for stories...but still no real solid idea.
Some possible things I may explore:
-Romantic comedy of some sort.
-A musician (bass player of course) finally making it in a band.
-A guy so immersed in the world of an online RPG his life takes on a surreal quality where the lines between reality and fiction blur so totally that he isn't able to distinguish between reality and the role play relationships in a game.
-The sequel to that previous idea that a friend jokingly said she would write and my sequel would involve the two in a relationship and trying to make things world while a zombie uprising happens.
-A third book in my as of not yet series,
-A sort of play on the sniper character from the game 'Borderlands' I've been playing recently with my best friend James.
-A surreal first person story about a guy who wakes up in his apartment and is unable to escape (think Silent Hill like psychological horror).
-All of the ideas mixed together with an extra helping of George A. Romero zombies sprinkled in.
Goodness...I don't know.
Time is ticking away and the word count is looming in the distance as I stare it down and I am readying my sources of caffeine and my determination to win this.
As a last note I want to thank my brave friends who have decided to embark on this crazy venture with me...it's always nice to have people along when you are busy loosing your mind!
Onward to noveling victory my friends!
I never knew I could be so pissed off at myself for doing the right thing.
I...God just help me to get my head on straight.
Remind me why I'm alive.
I can pray...I can stay at a distance and separate myself so I'm not destroyed by my wayward heart.
I don't have to be subjected to every whim, every struggle and allow it to cause my heart so much pain. I'm here to serve but allowing myself to be destroyed serves no one and is a disservice to You...myself and those I'm here to help.
I just...have such a struggle with trying to do the right thing...for the right reasons...I don't suppose any of us ever come to You for the right reason, right Lord?
I just...I struggle...I need to communicate in my mind...but it's none of my concern...what happens will happen without me around. Life existed before and after me...I'm living and dying apart from billions of people...the few I come across are just fleeting moments that will be gone just as soon. It hurts but that is reality...that is everything...here...gone...forever...
It hurts...but I can...I have to survive.
I...God just help me to get my head on straight.
Remind me why I'm alive.
I can pray...I can stay at a distance and separate myself so I'm not destroyed by my wayward heart.
I don't have to be subjected to every whim, every struggle and allow it to cause my heart so much pain. I'm here to serve but allowing myself to be destroyed serves no one and is a disservice to You...myself and those I'm here to help.
I just...have such a struggle with trying to do the right thing...for the right reasons...I don't suppose any of us ever come to You for the right reason, right Lord?
I just...I struggle...I need to communicate in my mind...but it's none of my concern...what happens will happen without me around. Life existed before and after me...I'm living and dying apart from billions of people...the few I come across are just fleeting moments that will be gone just as soon. It hurts but that is reality...that is everything...here...gone...forever...
It hurts...but I can...I have to survive.
I'm so...so tired of hurting.
Can't we just get along now?
Without the pain?
The only thing worse than the pain is the feelings of...
Locationless, meaningless and drifting apart as it were.
Do you see it?
Do you really see?
Can you feel?
Really feel this coming?
It's not like I ever really believed,
believed in you
or trusted what could be real
or self assured in the night.
Everything is just drifting
and fading
and ripping apart.
Soon, so soon
I can be free.
Can't we just get along now?
Without the pain?
The only thing worse than the pain is the feelings of...
Locationless, meaningless and drifting apart as it were.
Do you see it?
Do you really see?
Can you feel?
Really feel this coming?
It's not like I ever really believed,
believed in you
or trusted what could be real
or self assured in the night.
Everything is just drifting
and fading
and ripping apart.
Soon, so soon
I can be free.
Friday, October 30, 2009
I've hit a point to where I'm seriously considering just not doing NANOWRIMO this year. I can't focus...I have no idea what I want to write about much less something I would actually enjoy.
I'm such a minefield of convoluted thoughts right now.
Every idea I come up with is even more stupid than the last.
Part of the self imposed stipulation I had this year was that I can't write unless I find a job...and I found one...another menial and pointless minimum wage job that I am sure is only going to enhance my fun insomnia issues.
My optimism is that life is almost over, both good and bad.
Every moment is contained in this one.
All that there ever was could fit in the breadth of this single breath.
And...
There just is nothing of matter and of point I can bring my mind around to focus on...it's being so lost in the forest that I forgot about trees. There is a strong part of me that wants to leave the forest and see what the rest of life offers...but so much more of me doesn't care if I see another ray of sunlight again.
There is a dark blot that is on my soul and it is darkness.
It see all as hypocrisy and the divine as a profane hallucination.
I do not remember what it is I wanted to see.
What kind of change I was wanting to feel.
Where is the breeze,
the wind from the West
which brought us to this land?
A mythic land existed inside my mind.
I pretended absolutes were absolute
and that the finite could touch
and reach into the heavens.
Instead I feel the absurdity
of my blasphemy.
Nothing can last forever,
the eternal is in our hearts
and death doth matter
but as for these fleeting thoughts
I know not.
I want to curse the day
the moment I realized
and then knew
and ever since have been plagued
by this burning hunger for knowledge.
Knowing does nothing
to console the grieving heart
and does nothing
to help one live.
Trouble breathing,
nothing new.
Just a touch of madness
and a departing of emotion,
replacement with apathy
and the desire to fade away.
To not be seen,
such a blessing,
but even more blessed
is the one to never be born.
Sacred affirmation
of a realized salvation.
I'm such a minefield of convoluted thoughts right now.
Every idea I come up with is even more stupid than the last.
Part of the self imposed stipulation I had this year was that I can't write unless I find a job...and I found one...another menial and pointless minimum wage job that I am sure is only going to enhance my fun insomnia issues.
My optimism is that life is almost over, both good and bad.
Every moment is contained in this one.
All that there ever was could fit in the breadth of this single breath.
And...
There just is nothing of matter and of point I can bring my mind around to focus on...it's being so lost in the forest that I forgot about trees. There is a strong part of me that wants to leave the forest and see what the rest of life offers...but so much more of me doesn't care if I see another ray of sunlight again.
There is a dark blot that is on my soul and it is darkness.
It see all as hypocrisy and the divine as a profane hallucination.
I do not remember what it is I wanted to see.
What kind of change I was wanting to feel.
Where is the breeze,
the wind from the West
which brought us to this land?
A mythic land existed inside my mind.
I pretended absolutes were absolute
and that the finite could touch
and reach into the heavens.
Instead I feel the absurdity
of my blasphemy.
Nothing can last forever,
the eternal is in our hearts
and death doth matter
but as for these fleeting thoughts
I know not.
I want to curse the day
the moment I realized
and then knew
and ever since have been plagued
by this burning hunger for knowledge.
Knowing does nothing
to console the grieving heart
and does nothing
to help one live.
Trouble breathing,
nothing new.
Just a touch of madness
and a departing of emotion,
replacement with apathy
and the desire to fade away.
To not be seen,
such a blessing,
but even more blessed
is the one to never be born.
Sacred affirmation
of a realized salvation.
"What are you so scared of sister
What made you so afraid to feel
To chose a stone cold liberation
The one thing I hate most about me
Is the one thing you want to make your trademark
To feel lust without cute boring love
But don't you ever just like me
Long for purity
Don't you ever
Get sick of our territories
Don't you ever feel like glass
Fragile, hurting, letting it pass
Don't you think it's time to trespass
But when the fire is gone
Who are you?
What are you so scared of sister?
I'm just as scared as you"
What made you so afraid to feel
To chose a stone cold liberation
The one thing I hate most about me
Is the one thing you want to make your trademark
To feel lust without cute boring love
But don't you ever just like me
Long for purity
Don't you ever
Get sick of our territories
Don't you ever feel like glass
Fragile, hurting, letting it pass
Don't you think it's time to trespass
But when the fire is gone
Who are you?
What are you so scared of sister?
I'm just as scared as you"
As if I needed more reasons to be depressed...
Let's count the reasons:
1.Chronic pain.
2.Drama every few feet.
3.Ministryless.
4.Jobless.
5.Unable to eat foodless.
And...I won't be going to Atlanta to help with xxxchurch's outreach at the gay pride festival...because I don't have money. I can't borrow a car (mine needs an oil change and tires fixed) and I do not have the gas money for a trip there and back again. All my attempts at securing some sort of help has failed.
Gargh.
This whole planning and still failing thing is getting...really freaking upsetting.
YES I am taking this worse than I should...but I just want...I mean I pray and I feel led to do things and it doesn't work out...and I don't know what to do...I don't know what to say or pray except to cry and cry a lot because of how frustrated I am.
Maybe I'm not supposed to be a minister or do ministry work as a 'profession' but then...just what the heck am I supposed to do?
God I feel so sick...I'm trying not to throw up but this stress is just making is worse.
*sigh*
I'm going to go jump out my window and see if I can land on my head in such a way that ideas are forced to jump forward.
1.Chronic pain.
2.Drama every few feet.
3.Ministryless.
4.Jobless.
5.Unable to eat foodless.
And...I won't be going to Atlanta to help with xxxchurch's outreach at the gay pride festival...because I don't have money. I can't borrow a car (mine needs an oil change and tires fixed) and I do not have the gas money for a trip there and back again. All my attempts at securing some sort of help has failed.
Gargh.
This whole planning and still failing thing is getting...really freaking upsetting.
YES I am taking this worse than I should...but I just want...I mean I pray and I feel led to do things and it doesn't work out...and I don't know what to do...I don't know what to say or pray except to cry and cry a lot because of how frustrated I am.
Maybe I'm not supposed to be a minister or do ministry work as a 'profession' but then...just what the heck am I supposed to do?
God I feel so sick...I'm trying not to throw up but this stress is just making is worse.
*sigh*
I'm going to go jump out my window and see if I can land on my head in such a way that ideas are forced to jump forward.
Never too Early to Have my Eyes Profaned
I do not sleep much at all these days...a mixture of anxiety, pain and medication keep me running and I'm sure at some later date I'm going to collapse and sleep for a month but that is a side point that has nothing to do with what is on my mind. I was looking at my blog, rereading the past days insanity and decided to look at another blog, so I started clicking on the 'next' button located at the top of the screen and made it through some unremarkable blogs before I landed on a Russian porn site.
I suppose it does say something about my brain that when it is confronted with a language that is not mine and naked bodies my mind instantly focuses on the language and tries to identify it. After a few seconds I had my answer and I was just left sort of...stunned at the rather over the top graphic pictures I was seeing.
I felt sick to my stomach and just this...pity and hurt for the people in the pictures.
I don't understand how people can willingly get into porn, stripping or prostituting themselves. A lot of people seem to get in it because of bad financial issues and some just get into it because of some need for expression or voyeurism...but God I just do not get it.
I don't understand why people find that sort of thing attractive...random naked human beings reduced to caricatures that would be the same for advertising a sandwhich. I mean, for God's sake these are human beings, not just objects strewn about for fun.
I do not understand it but I do not want it to seem like I'm trying to come off as if I'm trying to judge them...it's the industry, the people who buy this garbage that helps to fuel what I can't help but call exploitation. In most cases it may be consenting adults...but somewhere at some point the souls are just having to die.
Looking at the smut on my computer screen I felt like I was looking at something as intimate as broken and bloody bodies on the side of the road from a car wreck. This is someone's daughter, their sister, their cousin, their friend...I just don't...there is this mental block here in my head.
I mean, I am human, I have a sex drive and sort of understand the notion of how nudity can even be tasteful art but this...I just don't know.
XXXChurch has always been a ministry I've supported and wanted to work with because they don't beat people with Bibles, they instead give them out at porn conventions and tell them that Jesus loves them, loves the porn stars. And it's the truth...those of us who know Jesus, none of us are loved based on our merits...but based on the fact Jesus loves us because we are, no more and no less.
It feels like pretentious crap to say I want to pray for these actors, those who are addicted to this stuff, those who I know that have failing marriages because of it...but saying that always feels like I'm trying to be smug and point the finger and say "Look how not screwed up I am!" but I am...mentally I am screwed up.
I don't understand sexuality and how it defines my identity exactly...I don't know what being a real man is about. I've never had a steady father figure...I've had a few mentors that have helped...but no one I can just call dad, I guess that is one reason why I cling to Jesus so desperately...I don't feel I can really connect with people and if God loves me...well that is something much better than just feeling like I'm a freak that a dad couldn't love enough to stay in the picture for.
I don't want to go into the details but I was subjected to porn when I was younger and it's always made me feel incredibly awkward. Most general thoughts of nudity in general makes me feel nauseated...personally if I could I would shower while wearing a wetsuit and pretend that sexuality didn't exist...
I'm not comfortable with the whole idea of us being made in God's image as male and female...the fact I do have a sex drive, I have feelings and emotions...all that mixed in my head just makes me want to scream and throw myself through a window to just try and knock some logic into myself.
I just feel so bombarded with sexuality...it feels so cheap and worthless when you think that sex is supposed to be this holy and sacred thing and it's been reduced to something as shallow as hamburger meat. It honestly enrages me beyond expression that so many females I care about have this idea that somehow they are inferior because they are not mirror images of what is dancing across that stupid television set...what is all this stupid chaos and nonsense?
It's like watching tremors from the fall still shake across and make society reveal itself as this cheap and shallow thing. What good old days? Human beings have always been cheap and disgusting...just super religiousism manages to act like everything is fine.
I just...at the end of the day I wish I could just expunge all of these feelings of need and desire...wash away every thought and want for a relationship...maybe I'm different but I don't want sex if I cannot have it in marriage...it seems so cheap and shallow and I just want things to work out perfectly somehow...and I just don't understand.
My mind is so limited and I am blinded by everything I do not know...
But Jesus is more than just Love...He is.
There is hope and hope that things will not stay the same...that somehow everything can be made right.
I do not want to be this shallow person who pretends to understand love...I want to throw my life away and take up whatever ministry it is I am supposed to be doing...I want to work with xxxchurch and work in the spiritual slums where people do not know they are loved. The whole joke about meeting a Christian stripper wasn't funny the first time and I just...I hate how shallow and hollow everything feels about life.
I don't understand why people would want to pay someone for sex, pay them to take their clothes off in this fake expression that has no real meaning...am I just missing something? Some sort of gene? Is it wrong that I think people who are so hyper focused on sex that they have no perspective and think that it is 'good' have something screwed up?
I'm not trying to be judging...it's not my place to condemn and people have the right to free speech...but what about when that speech starts eating at their souls and other peoples?
People are lonely and want a cheap thrill...I'm lonely and just want to just go Home...to go away from this confusing place that I want no part of...not because of being a self righteous prick...but because I'm a depressed coward too afraid of life to act. I want to go away so I never have to see this place again. I want to feel eternity and know everything...will be...okay...
I suppose it does say something about my brain that when it is confronted with a language that is not mine and naked bodies my mind instantly focuses on the language and tries to identify it. After a few seconds I had my answer and I was just left sort of...stunned at the rather over the top graphic pictures I was seeing.
I felt sick to my stomach and just this...pity and hurt for the people in the pictures.
I don't understand how people can willingly get into porn, stripping or prostituting themselves. A lot of people seem to get in it because of bad financial issues and some just get into it because of some need for expression or voyeurism...but God I just do not get it.
I don't understand why people find that sort of thing attractive...random naked human beings reduced to caricatures that would be the same for advertising a sandwhich. I mean, for God's sake these are human beings, not just objects strewn about for fun.
I do not understand it but I do not want it to seem like I'm trying to come off as if I'm trying to judge them...it's the industry, the people who buy this garbage that helps to fuel what I can't help but call exploitation. In most cases it may be consenting adults...but somewhere at some point the souls are just having to die.
Looking at the smut on my computer screen I felt like I was looking at something as intimate as broken and bloody bodies on the side of the road from a car wreck. This is someone's daughter, their sister, their cousin, their friend...I just don't...there is this mental block here in my head.
I mean, I am human, I have a sex drive and sort of understand the notion of how nudity can even be tasteful art but this...I just don't know.
XXXChurch has always been a ministry I've supported and wanted to work with because they don't beat people with Bibles, they instead give them out at porn conventions and tell them that Jesus loves them, loves the porn stars. And it's the truth...those of us who know Jesus, none of us are loved based on our merits...but based on the fact Jesus loves us because we are, no more and no less.
It feels like pretentious crap to say I want to pray for these actors, those who are addicted to this stuff, those who I know that have failing marriages because of it...but saying that always feels like I'm trying to be smug and point the finger and say "Look how not screwed up I am!" but I am...mentally I am screwed up.
I don't understand sexuality and how it defines my identity exactly...I don't know what being a real man is about. I've never had a steady father figure...I've had a few mentors that have helped...but no one I can just call dad, I guess that is one reason why I cling to Jesus so desperately...I don't feel I can really connect with people and if God loves me...well that is something much better than just feeling like I'm a freak that a dad couldn't love enough to stay in the picture for.
I don't want to go into the details but I was subjected to porn when I was younger and it's always made me feel incredibly awkward. Most general thoughts of nudity in general makes me feel nauseated...personally if I could I would shower while wearing a wetsuit and pretend that sexuality didn't exist...
I'm not comfortable with the whole idea of us being made in God's image as male and female...the fact I do have a sex drive, I have feelings and emotions...all that mixed in my head just makes me want to scream and throw myself through a window to just try and knock some logic into myself.
I just feel so bombarded with sexuality...it feels so cheap and worthless when you think that sex is supposed to be this holy and sacred thing and it's been reduced to something as shallow as hamburger meat. It honestly enrages me beyond expression that so many females I care about have this idea that somehow they are inferior because they are not mirror images of what is dancing across that stupid television set...what is all this stupid chaos and nonsense?
It's like watching tremors from the fall still shake across and make society reveal itself as this cheap and shallow thing. What good old days? Human beings have always been cheap and disgusting...just super religiousism manages to act like everything is fine.
I just...at the end of the day I wish I could just expunge all of these feelings of need and desire...wash away every thought and want for a relationship...maybe I'm different but I don't want sex if I cannot have it in marriage...it seems so cheap and shallow and I just want things to work out perfectly somehow...and I just don't understand.
My mind is so limited and I am blinded by everything I do not know...
But Jesus is more than just Love...He is.
There is hope and hope that things will not stay the same...that somehow everything can be made right.
I do not want to be this shallow person who pretends to understand love...I want to throw my life away and take up whatever ministry it is I am supposed to be doing...I want to work with xxxchurch and work in the spiritual slums where people do not know they are loved. The whole joke about meeting a Christian stripper wasn't funny the first time and I just...I hate how shallow and hollow everything feels about life.
I don't understand why people would want to pay someone for sex, pay them to take their clothes off in this fake expression that has no real meaning...am I just missing something? Some sort of gene? Is it wrong that I think people who are so hyper focused on sex that they have no perspective and think that it is 'good' have something screwed up?
I'm not trying to be judging...it's not my place to condemn and people have the right to free speech...but what about when that speech starts eating at their souls and other peoples?
People are lonely and want a cheap thrill...I'm lonely and just want to just go Home...to go away from this confusing place that I want no part of...not because of being a self righteous prick...but because I'm a depressed coward too afraid of life to act. I want to go away so I never have to see this place again. I want to feel eternity and know everything...will be...okay...
Wishing for Hope
Is it normal to...long for another world like this?
To wish for all things to be brought to their end...
To know my person leaving this world behind?
I don't know.
I long for freedom.
To be truly free.
No more illness.
No more of this bleeding heart.
I wan to be united with my only possible Love.
No more pain.
I'm tired of being so lonely.
Since the day I was ill conceived.
I'm ready for something more.
If there is and will be.
How long Lord?
How long will I wait?
To have my desires unfufilled.
To have nothing but these insufficent longings as my friends?
How long?
Please.
End this now.
To wish for all things to be brought to their end...
To know my person leaving this world behind?
I don't know.
I long for freedom.
To be truly free.
No more illness.
No more of this bleeding heart.
I wan to be united with my only possible Love.
No more pain.
I'm tired of being so lonely.
Since the day I was ill conceived.
I'm ready for something more.
If there is and will be.
How long Lord?
How long will I wait?
To have my desires unfufilled.
To have nothing but these insufficent longings as my friends?
How long?
Please.
End this now.
Quote of the Day:
"Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. How many hours are there in a mile? Is yellow square or round? Probably half the questions we ask-half our great theological and metaphysical problems-are like that."
-C.S. Lewis
-C.S. Lewis
Thursday, October 29, 2009
I think it's possible expectation is my biggest enemy and why my mind is so freaking over the place.
What would honestly happen if I just eliminated all expectation?
Is that such a horrible thing?
Both negative and positive.
And just accepted things 'as is'?
God I wish this would have clicked in my head years ago...I don't know how to go about breaking the ingrained sentiments I have...but God that would help...no expectations from friends, family, love, Jesus...anything.
That almost sounds like a healthy alternative to just investing in pure apathy.
What would honestly happen if I just eliminated all expectation?
Is that such a horrible thing?
Both negative and positive.
And just accepted things 'as is'?
God I wish this would have clicked in my head years ago...I don't know how to go about breaking the ingrained sentiments I have...but God that would help...no expectations from friends, family, love, Jesus...anything.
That almost sounds like a healthy alternative to just investing in pure apathy.
The thing that terrifies me the most about my dreams...much less my nightmares...isn't how realistic they are...but how realistic they FEEL.
I hate getting to this...place where I don't know if I've been talking to people or not...have had conversations.
God.
I'm a mess.
It has not been a pleasant twelve hours of freaking out...
If I live long enough to escape from here I am never returning willingly or alive.
I hate getting to this...place where I don't know if I've been talking to people or not...have had conversations.
God.
I'm a mess.
It has not been a pleasant twelve hours of freaking out...
If I live long enough to escape from here I am never returning willingly or alive.
God I freaking fell asleep.
That was the single most horrible and real nightmare I have had...I thought I freaking awake...and getting injections.
Seriously...are you trying to make a point or somethin?
I can't even process all of the elements of the nightmare...schools, military, injections, gunfire, people I know dying...
Jesus, enough already.
Please.
That was the single most horrible and real nightmare I have had...I thought I freaking awake...and getting injections.
Seriously...are you trying to make a point or somethin?
I can't even process all of the elements of the nightmare...schools, military, injections, gunfire, people I know dying...
Jesus, enough already.
Please.
I wish I would stop missing my grandmother.
The past is the past.
Why can I not let things go and just forget it already?
This...see this is what I'm talking about.
Ignoring, forgetting everything...it'll create a personal Hell.
But being numb in a personal Hell beats being vividly alive in one...and having every new day pour gasoline on the flames with new complications and new problems.
Why can't things just go back to being simple?
I haven't aged.
The very notion of me even considering being a father is mere madness.
I would be a unspeakably horribly person to actually want someone else to go through anything like what I'm going through right now.
Delusions, mad delusions.
The past is the past.
Why can I not let things go and just forget it already?
This...see this is what I'm talking about.
Ignoring, forgetting everything...it'll create a personal Hell.
But being numb in a personal Hell beats being vividly alive in one...and having every new day pour gasoline on the flames with new complications and new problems.
Why can't things just go back to being simple?
I haven't aged.
The very notion of me even considering being a father is mere madness.
I would be a unspeakably horribly person to actually want someone else to go through anything like what I'm going through right now.
Delusions, mad delusions.
Explosively Explicit Rant
Trying is absolutely frivolous.
Pointless beyond reason.
Nothing here is going to last.
No connection or relationship is worth investment or trying.
But my nature be damned I cannot quit.
I want to throw up all of this emotion, I want to be rid of it.
I want to show my revulsion with feeling.
I want to die on the inside and never feel again.
I want to be numb to life.
I never want to breath again.
But I can't quit.
You won't let me.
I'm a child, spoiled child who wants to throw a tantrum.
I want to lay here in the mud and blood and the beer and weep.
Weep in shame for everything I am and everything that I am not.
I'm so insecure and I have to pain it in bright read letters on here so everyone can see it.
I'm weak, I'm sick.
Physically I just want to give up because it feels like I won't heal and I won't get better. I don't sleep, I can't and when I do it's nightmares...mentally I'm not here.
Emotionally I'm stretched beyond the snapping point and feel like the ground is just sliding out from under me and it's only a moment before I loose the rest of these.
I have to get out of this house...I'm afraid for my life, I can't focus...writing is this blob of complete crap...this isn't anything.
This is rubbish, this entire stupid blog is nothing.
I keep throwing myself at mirrors and cutting myself on them to just find I'm just Narcissus, following in love my own image and no one was there in the first place.
I'm sending words out to no one and the only person's time I'm wasting is my own.
It's not a letter in a bottle, it's an encyclopedia of hate locked inside my own prison, my own coffin.
Why am I trying?
Why am I fighting the inevitable?
All of this will fade.
Everyone.
No one will be here to stand with me.
I'll be fighting by myself, alone again.
Few people, a damn few people understand me.
Understand why I am trying to stand at all.
This isn't the movies, this ain't a game.
Few people care, few people see the truth.
No one wants to give up their comfort.
No one wants to sell everything to just buy a worthless piece of land with a single prized pearl in it.
No one is going to give up their life just so they can gain the eternal.
It's pointless.
I'm beyond being on another level, I'm just in another plane altogether.
This isn't just about ministry, it is about life itself.
The darkness that encroaches every aspect of life, people selling themselves short over mud pies when they have all of eternity within grasp.
People can't grasp the temporal, much less the true nature of life.
I'm not saying I know.
I just know enough to be dangerous.
I know that I don't know.
And God it is driving me mad.
I know Love, I've felt and seen it.
It terrifies me as much as I'm intoxicated by it.
I want freedom, I need freedom.
My mind will never shut off until everything crashes down forever.
People want a show.
They want emotion.
They paid good money to see me beg and that's why they are here.
People want to see those on the pedestals come crashing down.
They live vicariously the plastic screens and everyone says they want the happy ending but they pay to see lives crumble so we can all go back home to our nihilistic hell holes and stay there.
Apathy consumes because it is easier to pretend humans are just numbers, that unborn babies are mere collections of souls and the people being raped and murdered in fucking genocides are useless figures...uneducated people useless and not worth anything in the grand scheme.
I hate arrogance so much.
I hate my own the most.
I hate the scum I represent as ministry.
Religion is a sham.
Jesus is the life, the truth and only way that works...everything else is utter bullshit coined to help us ignore the suffering around us and so we can wash our hands of responsibility.
The more I read about how Jesus LOVES, the more I realize I am a selfish brat who doesn't care about anything besides laying here in this trash heap of my things. I say I want to change the world but I'm too much of a coward.
Martyrs, the ones who willingly embrace being beaten to death, starving themselves for others, giving their lives to the Truth (not those mislabeled dogmatic fools that are nothing more than blind idiots who blow themselves up because they are neurotically depressed and too scared to face the fact that life is complex, not simply black and white).
I don't want to suffer.
I complain, I'm frightened, I'm scared out of my mind and I can't help but swear because of how outraged and terrified I am.
I don't want comfort either.
I want to stew in this rage and let it overtake me.
I want to be the little child who lays down and cries while beating the floor because of how absolutely terrified I am.
I'm terrified of being right.
That Jesus is the Messiah who loves us all and my 'job' is to love people, build relationships and tell them that they are infinitely loved.
Being loved scares me, it's easier to be feared and hated than loved...love covers over a multitude of sins and means you can be redeemed from the cesspool you live in...it means you can't live in sin and pretend that life is black and white and a game.
I want to live in games, virtual settings, roleplays...these pretend worlds because I hate my reality so much...who I am.
I hate knowing the Father loves me so much Jesus died for my sins, rose again and loves me infinitely and holds nothing against me. I hate knowing it because I am created to love Him and love all of you and everyone else.
I'm supposed to love the religious, the conservative, the liberals, my ex-girlfriends, my friends, my family...and I would rather just put a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger than talk to most of these people because communicating is ripping my heart apart...trying to live in eternity and this world at the same time is ripping me to pieces and I can't function at all.
I cry and it doesn't help.
I ask for help.
I pray.
God I pray.
I'm more alone now than I was before.
The more I pray the more I feel the void.
Where did You go?
I had idols I don't want.
Just rip me out of reality.
Take me home, I want to go HOME please.
If You are more than a delusion, the makings of a sick mind...just help me push past this or take me away.
I can't breath.
It hurts so bad...please.
Pointless beyond reason.
Nothing here is going to last.
No connection or relationship is worth investment or trying.
But my nature be damned I cannot quit.
I want to throw up all of this emotion, I want to be rid of it.
I want to show my revulsion with feeling.
I want to die on the inside and never feel again.
I want to be numb to life.
I never want to breath again.
But I can't quit.
You won't let me.
I'm a child, spoiled child who wants to throw a tantrum.
I want to lay here in the mud and blood and the beer and weep.
Weep in shame for everything I am and everything that I am not.
I'm so insecure and I have to pain it in bright read letters on here so everyone can see it.
I'm weak, I'm sick.
Physically I just want to give up because it feels like I won't heal and I won't get better. I don't sleep, I can't and when I do it's nightmares...mentally I'm not here.
Emotionally I'm stretched beyond the snapping point and feel like the ground is just sliding out from under me and it's only a moment before I loose the rest of these.
I have to get out of this house...I'm afraid for my life, I can't focus...writing is this blob of complete crap...this isn't anything.
This is rubbish, this entire stupid blog is nothing.
I keep throwing myself at mirrors and cutting myself on them to just find I'm just Narcissus, following in love my own image and no one was there in the first place.
I'm sending words out to no one and the only person's time I'm wasting is my own.
It's not a letter in a bottle, it's an encyclopedia of hate locked inside my own prison, my own coffin.
Why am I trying?
Why am I fighting the inevitable?
All of this will fade.
Everyone.
No one will be here to stand with me.
I'll be fighting by myself, alone again.
Few people, a damn few people understand me.
Understand why I am trying to stand at all.
This isn't the movies, this ain't a game.
Few people care, few people see the truth.
No one wants to give up their comfort.
No one wants to sell everything to just buy a worthless piece of land with a single prized pearl in it.
No one is going to give up their life just so they can gain the eternal.
It's pointless.
I'm beyond being on another level, I'm just in another plane altogether.
This isn't just about ministry, it is about life itself.
The darkness that encroaches every aspect of life, people selling themselves short over mud pies when they have all of eternity within grasp.
People can't grasp the temporal, much less the true nature of life.
I'm not saying I know.
I just know enough to be dangerous.
I know that I don't know.
And God it is driving me mad.
I know Love, I've felt and seen it.
It terrifies me as much as I'm intoxicated by it.
I want freedom, I need freedom.
My mind will never shut off until everything crashes down forever.
People want a show.
They want emotion.
They paid good money to see me beg and that's why they are here.
People want to see those on the pedestals come crashing down.
They live vicariously the plastic screens and everyone says they want the happy ending but they pay to see lives crumble so we can all go back home to our nihilistic hell holes and stay there.
Apathy consumes because it is easier to pretend humans are just numbers, that unborn babies are mere collections of souls and the people being raped and murdered in fucking genocides are useless figures...uneducated people useless and not worth anything in the grand scheme.
I hate arrogance so much.
I hate my own the most.
I hate the scum I represent as ministry.
Religion is a sham.
Jesus is the life, the truth and only way that works...everything else is utter bullshit coined to help us ignore the suffering around us and so we can wash our hands of responsibility.
The more I read about how Jesus LOVES, the more I realize I am a selfish brat who doesn't care about anything besides laying here in this trash heap of my things. I say I want to change the world but I'm too much of a coward.
Martyrs, the ones who willingly embrace being beaten to death, starving themselves for others, giving their lives to the Truth (not those mislabeled dogmatic fools that are nothing more than blind idiots who blow themselves up because they are neurotically depressed and too scared to face the fact that life is complex, not simply black and white).
I don't want to suffer.
I complain, I'm frightened, I'm scared out of my mind and I can't help but swear because of how outraged and terrified I am.
I don't want comfort either.
I want to stew in this rage and let it overtake me.
I want to be the little child who lays down and cries while beating the floor because of how absolutely terrified I am.
I'm terrified of being right.
That Jesus is the Messiah who loves us all and my 'job' is to love people, build relationships and tell them that they are infinitely loved.
Being loved scares me, it's easier to be feared and hated than loved...love covers over a multitude of sins and means you can be redeemed from the cesspool you live in...it means you can't live in sin and pretend that life is black and white and a game.
I want to live in games, virtual settings, roleplays...these pretend worlds because I hate my reality so much...who I am.
I hate knowing the Father loves me so much Jesus died for my sins, rose again and loves me infinitely and holds nothing against me. I hate knowing it because I am created to love Him and love all of you and everyone else.
I'm supposed to love the religious, the conservative, the liberals, my ex-girlfriends, my friends, my family...and I would rather just put a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger than talk to most of these people because communicating is ripping my heart apart...trying to live in eternity and this world at the same time is ripping me to pieces and I can't function at all.
I cry and it doesn't help.
I ask for help.
I pray.
God I pray.
I'm more alone now than I was before.
The more I pray the more I feel the void.
Where did You go?
I had idols I don't want.
Just rip me out of reality.
Take me home, I want to go HOME please.
If You are more than a delusion, the makings of a sick mind...just help me push past this or take me away.
I can't breath.
It hurts so bad...please.
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