Seems there is nothing new underneath that sun...

Why?
Why?
Why?

Please...stop the nightmares...please.

"But what wisdom is there within us
To live based on the feeling of our hearts
How many times has instinct let us down
Never to be thought through
Never to be questioned
Say what you really mean
When your ambition calls you
For what use is there in praying
If you will only hear what you want to hear?"

Happiness is...

...is what?
This fleeting feeling?
Fluttering feathers free falling?
Perpetual masquerading masks?

Such antiquated beauty
with no peculiar flavor.

I am not certain I know happiness.
Nor will know it as long as I might think.
The happiest I can be
is being enraptured in the second
so as to engage my soul
and not let it wander into the shadows.

I am told to relax.
Forget and indulge.
But...I am me.
Is this not enough?
Why must such things be said
when they only hurt?



I will not know it when it comes.
Nor see it as it leaves.
But as the door closes
and I sit here in pain
I might rejoice that
the visage of the Muse
staid by reality
and that we may only meet
only under the cover
of moonlight
as we stroll down the lanes of our souls.

This is truth enough
that pain will exist
until the earth is ripped asunder
and placed back right.

This is truth enough
that love will never die
but oh will it be delayed
until the dying moment
and I take my last breath.


Perpetual thoughts
just falling from your sky
in shades of gray
and falling on your plans,
what more can you want from life?

Breath.
Live.
Hunger.
Search.
Desire.
Despair.
Hope.
Death.
Resurrection.

Joy in the fleeting seconds
between horror and pain,
hope that the dawn will come
and even when it will not
that the death will not be in vain.

Will not.
Is.
Shall never.
Ultima.

Quote of the Day:

“Mistrust the man who finds everything good; the man who finds everything evil; and still more the man who is indifferent to everything”
-Johann Kaspar Lavater

Quote of the Day:

"Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself."
-Leo Tolstoy

Oh so many vivid impossibilities...

"I want Faith Like That
To see the dead rise
or to see You pass by
Oh I, I want Faith Like That
Whatever the cost
I'll suffer the loss, Oh I
I want the Faith That can move any mountain
and send them to the sea
I want the Faith that can break every stronghold
That keeps you, keeps you from me"

I wish I could cast this all away...and feel my soul run free.
Oh be free...truly free for Love.

Quote of the Day:

"Let others complain that the times are wicked. I complain that they are paltry; for they are without passion. The thoughts of men are thin and frail like lace...The thoughts of their hearts are too puny to be sinful. For a worm it might conceivably be regarded a sin to harbor thoughts such as theirs, not for a man who is formed in the image of God."
-Søren Kierkegaard

Talking to her seems to have been nothing more than a dream.

The deranged assimilation of an exhausted and overworked brain.

Oh how I hurt.
Mr.Reznor you wrote about this.

What have I become?
What will I become?

The pain of breathing...of making myself act while drowning in this ocean of fear and doubt...oh such bitter sweet hope...

Quote of the Day:

"One wonders why no one in church history as ever been considered a heretic for being unloving. People were anathematized and often tortured and killed for disagreeing on matters of doctrine or on the authority of the church. But no one on record has ever been so much as rebuked for not loving as Christ loved...how is it that possessing Christlike love has never been considered the central test of orthodoxy?"
-Greg Boyd

Why must it be pain or nightmares?
Or both?

Why can...

I complain a lot.
The small things hurt.

But You, You are bigger than these things.
Bigger than my hopes, my dreams and pain.
Father...please.
I'm in so much pain.
My body hates me, my mind and soul are so confused...

Hold me in Love.
Please.
Now and forever.

Such exhausted and pain filled irritation...

"I firmly believe people have hitherto been a great deal too much taken up about doctrine and far too little about practice. The word doctrine, as used in the Bible, means teaching of duty, not theory. I preached a sermon about this. We are far too anxious to be definite and to have finished, well-polished, sharp-edged systems - forgetting that the more perfect a theory about the infinite, the surer it is to be wrong, the more impossible it is to be right."
-George MacDonald

Quote of the Day, The Second Part:

"He must have been like me, that Pharisee. He too thought only of himself - how to get a cup of tea, how to keep warm and comfortable; never a thought of his guest. He took care of himself, but for his guest he cared nothing at all. Yet who was his guest? The Lord himself! If he came to me, should I behave like that?"
-Leo Tolstoy

Quote of the Day:

"The most difficult subjects can be explained to the most slow-witted man if he has not formed any idea of them already; but the simplest thing cannot be made clear to the most intelligent man if he is firmly persuaded that he knows already, without a shadow of doubt, what is laid before him."
-Leo Tolstoy

Yes or No

Vivid.
Vicious visceral intent.
Mind traps.
Redundancy.
Simplicity.

Forgoing freedom for slavery.
Forgetting and breaking down.
Every little thing added.

Reciprocation, if only in lies.
Realization all is here and gone.

Yes and No.
You knew it was this way.
Always.

"Hurt" - Nine Inch Nails

More.
Nightmares.
Thank.
You.
Jesus.

So freaking swell of you.

*sigh*

I hate loosing...and...it's not like 'true love' actually exists anyways...

God I feel physically sick from how bad the nightmares are...I feel like my soul is being ripped apart...

Matthew 11:27-30

"Jesus resumed talking to the people, but now tenderly. "The Father has given me all these things to do and say. This is a unique Father-Son operation, coming out of Father and Son intimacies and knowledge. No one knows the Son the way the Father does, nor the Father the way the Son does. But I'm not keeping it to myself; I'm ready to go over it line by line with anyone willing to listen.

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.""
-Matthew 11:27-30

Christian Nihilism

All that is temporal is too late and already faltering in step. It is hard to make a risk on such a thing...as people when it feels like all there is behind the curtain...is just more heart wrenching pain.

But what is the alternative?
Isolation?
Eternally temporal fear?

There is nothing I need...or want to want...want to desire more than God.
Everything else will die, everyone else will go away in the end...

Why can I not just be content with the eternal?
Why must the temporal go on ripping my heart asunder while I plead for a cure for this anxiety leading towards death?

I just...want...or need...or...or...

There are words, poor words.
Fear...hate...fear...

There has to be more to this than the pain.
There has to be more life than this death.

I see across this chasm,
across the billowing ocean
a Love burning so bright
that I scarcely comprehend
but know I am being pulled.

The night is dying
and my hope
oh my hope is crying
as I feel the darkness creep.
The night will end
but until then we must go onward.

Wandering Saint of Destruction

My appetite knows no end.
My eyes are never satisfied.

The fel beast within me snarls in disgust at my weakness and demands more and more.

Nothing is ever sufficient.
Nothing is new under this burning sun.

I feel the coating of sin on my skin.
Burning ever so near.
The heat of want
coupled with the ache of desiring more,
more than this broken body knows how to deliver.

Even if I was given everything,
everything my eyes see
and my hands long to touch,
what would I have left?

There is no contempt
like there is for myself
at such weakness
as wanting it all
so I can hate myself more.

Words.
Useless bloody words
falling from a broken mouth
and all I have is all I have
while I wait and pray.

My righteousness is less than filthy rags.
I am broken and full of contempt,
my rage a senseless repetition
just a reflection of everything I am.

Panic.
Recluse.
Despising myself.
But hope.
Bright burning impossible hope.
Words of Peace breaking my heart,
just letting me begin to heal.

Carry me as I am weak.
Oh so weak from the loss of blood.

Somethings give me hope.
Somethings utterly depress me.
Is it sad that this does both?