Cue feeling like a terrible person.
Hooray!

Ouchie.
My insides are severally disagreeing with me.

I'm hoping against hope.
But isn't that what I do already?

Nanowrimo 2012 - Day 1

Too much work to get the damn embeded video working, just follow the bloody link:

http://lamecreation.blogspot.com/2012/11/nanowrimo-2012-day-1.html

Being Human

Sometimes I loathe being human.
Yes.
This is directed to You.

Why these emotions?
Feelings?
Desires?
Wants?
Needs?
Longings?

Why do I miss something?
Why do I miss someone that will never reply to me again no matter how hard I try to get in touch with her?

I don't know where lines are.
Or maybe I do not care.
This may be Your mercy.
Keeping me from digging holes deeper than I can ever hope to get out of.

But the sheer frustrating.
The ache of my soul.
The absence.
The pain.

It's not just one person.
It's being.
Being.

I know, I feel in my bones there is reason.
That even when the shroud separating this world from the next is torn down, like on that Friday, things will be made whole.
Healing.

But until then.
This mountain.
Then the next.
Until I reach the place You want.
A second coming.
Or my death.
Whichever comes first.

I trust this isn't just some parade of fools.
But I cannot carry this heavy heart alone.

If there is such thing as a writing hangover this must be what it feels like... @_@

NANOWRIMO 2012 - Day 0

What am I doing?
A sixth novel when I haven't revised any of the others besides the occasional prod.
Don't I have a half dozen papers to write?
A dozen or so books to read already?

What is it that drags me back every November for this event?
What makes me act as ridiculous with novel writing as I do by being a Christian?

There is some bizarre mixture of faith involved with religion and art.
I'm too busy and tired to really dig deep but really, the hope burning and bursting to be released from my heart is a nice counter to the darkness that seems to always prevail and win in this world.

I have multiple people remind me every year that I need a sanity.
How could writing a fifty thousand word first draft help?

If you haven't done it, if you've never made a piece of art...then I'm not sure you can ever understand.
Art, Faith, Philosophy and Love are this bizarre mixture inside of me I cannot and refuse to seperate or try to dissect with science.

Yeah something about chemicals, reactions and hormones but every writer is seeking Truth.

It may just be what the character will do next.
Trying to meet a word quote.
Making something to entertain others.
Or maybe like me trying to find some sort of self and existentialist affirmation in creating something that is outside of me, that the insanity of my faith/art are valid.

We all have stories.
But there is so much fear.

This quote rings with me:

 "Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a shitty first draft. I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won't have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren't even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they're doing it.”

― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life"
Some people write for others.
Some write for themselves.
But those who write must write.
It doesn't have to make sense to you.
Mostly it doesn't make sense to me.
And sometimes God sends a small mist of grace that helps things make more sense.

Here is to insanity.
Here is to writing.
And here is to ripping off the masks we hide behind and start trying to embrace our art, ourselves and all that we hold dear.

-Matt

Migraine lessened slighty...read...write...read...write!!!

Quote of the Day

"All these evils I have fought, while you have done nothing but observe! True, I am guilty of interference. Just as you are guilty of failing to use your great powers to help those in need!”
— The Doctor

Oh well.
No luck there.
But my head hurts freaking much!
Hooray!

If I can't go to church then I am going to help someone online dammit.
Nothing is going to stop me from helping SOMEONE today and being some sort of a positive influence or at least someone who will listen. 

Feeling better I think.
I just wish I could go to church.
I've been two weeks in a row...it's like a drug.
Community, fellowship, realizing you aren't just insane...but there are OTHERS who are serious in believing these absurdly impossibly wonderful things about first century Jewish Rabbi Carpenter who claimed to be God.

SIck and Music for the NIght

Severe stomach pain, nausea, what feels like a fever, violently stomach sickness...yeah I found a bug some how.

So I'm listening to what kept my ahead afloat in China.

Blindside.

The Great Depression.

So much raw emotion and spiritualness.

Next up is "With Shivering Hearts We Wait"

Empath Geyser

After crying a while I feel better.
I think the tension of the past year...and events over several months have just continued to build...and empathy explosion of emotion that I have absorbed and just did not know what to do with.

Something to work on...to find healing with...if this isn't just a curse...

Geekery and Halloween

For two glorious hours I stood in the Doctors shoes at this bizarre crossways of faith and geekery.

Actually being noticed, complimented, encouraged and all of the worldly (or maybe not always) stuff I try so hard not to want because I never know where the line is....all the way I was being the hands and feet of Jesus by trying to help organize some stupid and frivolous way to help raise food for the hungry when I either can't get a real job, a single fucking hour at work or even manage what little money gets put in my hands.


So much irony.
Help others.
Can't even pull my life together.
Feels the harder I push the harder I'm pushed back into the ground with force.
Demons screaming in my face.
Making me feel every nerve cell in my body scream in pain as I just do NOT know what to do.




I wore a mismatched pairing of vest, shirt, trousers, shoes, hat, curly hair and 12 foot long scarf and I realize how much I hate my normal everyday life.

How painful existing can be.
I just want to be special and have meaning.

To wear this scarf and people KNOW who I am, the encouragement and smiles and actual shared laughter instead of just feeling like total and incomprehensible garbage.


Meaningless garbage.

I am so alone.
So scared.
And hurt.
Lonely and need a hug.
But so scared of it all at the same time

The most frustrating thing about being upset is realizing the futility of it.
Raging.
Crying.
Sobbing
Punching this stupid pillow.
Meaningless.
The pain continues.
And hurts so fucking badly.

Cards, costumes, geekery, a chance to be Jesus to people who couldn't care less and yet somehow I was able to make an impact.

And I feel so powerless.

It was a mini-con and I can't even afford the gas money to drive back after having to leave early. It is so frustrating and NOTHING can change reality.

Nothing can change the fact it's over and gone for me and here I am stuck with this present that I never asked for or wanted but here it came as some unexpected delivery and I am supposed to seize it.

How?

How do I open the package and door of positibility when I didn't even want it in the first place?

My life hurts.
My soul aches.
It burns and screams to be finally free of Sin which is rotting me from the inside out.
And one day be free.
Be made whole.
No more of this emptyness.
This neediness.
This collapsing.
This sickness.

But never ending intimacy and joy.
One day.
One day.

I feel so inadequate and stupid about not being able to actually find and get work.
Much less handle money.
It's a wonder I've made it this far by people being willing to drag or support me.
Self sufficiency isn't impossible but feels like some dream.
While I'm caught in this nightmare of false promises.

Annnnnnnd migraine.
Still.
I think this is either day eight or day nine.
Woo!

I could use some Tylenol.
Maybe some Bayer Aspirin   .

Proverbs 25

Dross.
Silver being drawn.
Will comment more on later.

Proverbs 24

"Rescue those who are unjustly sentenced to die;
    save them as they stagger to their death. 
 Don’t excuse yourself by saying, “Look, we didn’t know.”
    For God understands all hearts, and he sees you.
He who guards your soul knows you knew.
    He will repay all people as their actions deserve."
-Proverbs 24:11-12


 I want to be more than political and "pro-life" because I feel that is not enough.
Is my theology wrong in that I feel You are calling me to say no to all means of ending life?
More than abortion but war, executions and violence?
Is that why I'm studying about pacifism?

This feels so big.
So scary.
So uncertain.

It doesn't help this migraine will not go away.
I am hurting all over.

My soul feels lonely but then...lately it's like I feel you blessing and washing over me with Your Spirit, touching me and...maybe pulling down these walls?

I do not know.
Is it safe to say that?

I do not want to fight a battle.
I just want to lay in Your arms so I can heal.
But I know a battle is coming.
I feel it is in my soul and in my bones.

The years have been coming to this point, and I will have to make a choice.
It feels that way.
Help me understand.
Give me wisdom to show Your Love to this world.

Migraine.
Still.
Ack.
Don't have time to take off for this...to the chiropractor we go...

Proverbs 23

^"Don’t cheat your neighbor by moving the ancient boundary markers;
    don’t take the land of defenseless orphans. For their Redeemer is strong;
    he himself will bring their charges against you.

 Commit yourself to instruction;
    listen carefully to words of knowledge."

^{-Proverbs 23:10-12}

  ^{Why is this screaming out to me about Orthodoxy?}

^{About trying to find that place where You truth intersects with tradition, religion, spiritual things  God you alone know what else.}

I feel like the past few years have been this wandering in the Wasteland, somewhere between slavery in Egypt and drunkenness in a false Canaan. 

I want to rest under the shadow of Your Love.

Not feel this need to stay constantly alert and paranoid.

My bottle rattles with coughs and aches 

while finances slip further away.

I was born with nothing

and I shall die with nothing,

except Your Love.

Your choosing to choose me

was something I would never believe

and something I still struggle with grasping.

All the fine lines of poetry I cough out

and etch in rock with these shaking hands

and I wonder what is next.

Where is the boundary?

Where is Truth?

I have to ask WHAT IS TRUTH?

Not this screwed up tradition and bloodshed we call freedom.

But freedom from ourselves.

Freedom to Love.

To Love You.

To Love others.

To finally grasp Love for myself.

I do not want to cut myself off of blessings, of Love, of Truth, of You because of trying to make these silly people happy. I want to recklessly pursue You.

Everything else is fodder for the fire.

Please help me to get my priorities in shape again.

Get my head on my shoulders.

All that nice proverbial stuff that my mom has been trying to get me to do all these years.

(Hi mom!)

But more than that, help me become the man, the teacher, the preacher, the Christian You have called me to be.

All of these threads are loose.

They compose the tapestry of my life.

One day we will look at it together.

You are the only One who can pull it together.

Please pull my pieces, my pain, my love, my tragedy, my wonder and hope all together.

Into this beautiful picture of life that only You could have forseen.

Since before time was a human construct we created to prevent from going insane.

Thank You.

Thank You.

Thank You.

Rejoice. 

Laptop Woes

I'm working on my fifth laptop within 12 days or so.
This one is looking like it will die in any minute.
It's kind of exciting.
Well in the "My life needs more explosions and car chases" exciting way.

Migraine Rhythm Pulsing in My Skull

Several days.
Just this noise.
The blistering heat behind my eyes.
Stench of corpse
and rotting soul.

What am I getting myself into?
Every day
just seems passing
and blowing
in this wind
as I hold on.
Hoping the pain will end.

Yet here we are,
days
weeks
months
years
and forever
just passing by.

Maybe it is just a way of saying goodnight
but here I place my hope
rugged wood
stained with old blood
that digs into my skin
cutting deep.

And here I stay,
here I hope
and maybe
just one day
I can see Your smile.
Just once more.

Poetic Revelation

It's bizzare.
To be in a room full of people...and nothing.

Substance.
Aching.
Want.
Traversing.

Everything feels so fleeting.
Moving, colidiing
and crashing.

Everything leading to this climax
this unknown
and unexpected
which will thrice be revealed.

A Waltz of Joyful Pain

I don't understand.
But I will struggle to surrender this to You.
To not let this be my death bed,
or cry to cry in despair.
Nevermore.

The water washed my heart
and is pulling my spirit
and I just can't resist.

Words again,
fire to my soul.
Burning coal scorching my unclean lips.

This tattered robes stained in blood,
both Yours and mine.
Where do we go from here?
The words fall from my lips
as I try to run
and I just awake again.

This cycle of fighting
the shadows
the demons
the monsters
latching onto my soul
and trying to destroy me.

I need You.
More than Ever.
This broken mess.
Body decaying
and Spirit screaming.

Please do not delay Lover.
Do no tarry,
as the wind catches my hair
and stings my eyes.
I try not to doubt but love,
love until it bleeds and hurts.

I feel the vibrations on the air
the impossible fire
and burning hurricane of Love
that refuses to let me be.
To let me be in my self made prison,
chambers and cells of a Hell
only I could conceive of. 

Lover love me,
rescue me
once again.

Hold me tight
so I feel Your heartbeat.
Hand in hand
as we cross
the ebb and flow
of time and space.