Days like this, I am overwhelmed by information I cannot process. Fights with my wife, information regarding the imminent U.S. military state, stupid conflict with another person, lack of sleep, bad judgment calls, etc.
I want a redo. Start over from midnight on. Or fast forward to tomorrow. Not smoking makes stress ridiculously difficult to handle. I can’t talk sense into everyone or make them stop behaving like children.
The end is coming. The end is coming soon. In my lifetime. Or immediately after.
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i wish i could stop. no i don’t. that would be a lie. i love iTunes. when i’m bored, i surf iTunes, looking for what “other people bought” that might be similar to what i like. it’s a disease. an addiction. a hardcore vice.
my wife hates it. i buy more music than she buys clothes. but i listen to music all day. i need fresh. i need inspiring. i need new.
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It’s been too long since I updated. Too much going on. And, honestly, after thinking about it, I realized that this shouldn’t be a place for long soliloquies. It should be short, brief bursts of thought, just like I have them in my head. So that’s where I’m going with this.
Not sure if anyone will ever read it, though. There are millions of blogs on the Web. This is one. This is me.
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I gave up trying to be popular today. My pastor spoke on staying centered today. He said that making anything or anyone other than Jesus the center of our life is a dangerous proposition. He handed out a piece of paper to each one of us that listed 10 things people often make the central focus of their lives. The list included happiness, spouse, children, service, ministry, work, addictions and the future. Read the rest of this entry »
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Listening to Sarah McLachlan. So soft and haunting. Reminds me of all the darkest moments in my life. When I couldn’t escape from the pain of my life, and didn’t want to.
There was a time when it felt better to hold rejection and betrayal close to my heart, so it could simmer like a steady fire. Everyone handles loss differently. Me? I chose to never lose again. I chose to never trust. Each person was useful only until they weren’t. Tools.
I still got hurt. Over and over, actually. But that deepest hurt was reserved for the first time. The one time I was caught off guard.
Yeah, sure, I intended this site to be a place of hope and encouragement. But how can I encourage you when I am not encouraged? Sarah sings my song. I remember the night. The empty. The comforting glow of headlights passing along the road. Pale lights in office buildings. The faint blue glow inside apartment leasing offices. The solitary yellow hue of a solitary street lamp.
Those were mine. My moments. Faint glowing lights swallowed up in the empty darkness. No sounds of life to be found. Just the severe sense of abandonment that can only come when a busy day is gone and everyone has gone their separate ways. The moment between was and is. The sense of nothing. Just a faint glow. Enough to see how empty the street really is. Enough to see that the house holds no one. They have all moved on. Or gone to sleep. Despite your best efforts. You are alone.
Those were my moments. I walked empty streets at night. Accompanied by the occasional police officer who would check my ID so he could question me later if anything went wrong. All I did was walk. Walk and walk and walk. Where would I go? I would visit places that had a meaning once. I would visit them so I could feel the ache of NOT being there at the right time. So I could touch the sense of “never again.” I relished the ache. It was a strange pleasure. Knowing that once upon a time, something meaningful happened right here. Something I desperately wish I could relive, but never will. And that sense of loss was the greatest comfort. It proved that reality was real. That wishes don’t come true because you wish them. That choices have consequences. That you can’t undo what you’ve done. And that you should take advantage of the next moment when given the chance.
It will never happen again. Not the same. Not this way.
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I’m watching The Brave One, starring Jodie Foster. It’s affecting me in a strange way. Makes me want to write. To admit an awareness of the harsher side of life.
People hurt people. It makes me sick. I heard a man betray his wife’s confidence today. They had a disagreement over the phone. She said something that didn’t make sense to him. So he repeated her words in front of a group of people he knows. He mocked his own wife in front of others. He did not honor her in public. He did not cherish her.
Poor woman. She was ridiculed in front of his acquaintances. I felt sick. He violated the most sacred bonds between to people. He chose to look good (or try to) in front of others rather than to protect her.
Some will not see the issue. I pity them. It’s only when you hold something so dear to your heart you guard it jealously that you have anything to live for.
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This is one of those rare moments when my wife and baby girl are both asleep. It’s Friday night. Dallas Green is singing loudly through my earbuds. His voice is heaven. My heart sighs a little… feels better knowing that someone can sing my pain, my heartache, my sorrow. Someone gives my heart expression when I can’t. This is the time of the week I used to cherish most. It is the time furthest away from having to go to work. It feels somehow more free than the rest of the week. Here are a few lines from my favorite Dallas Green (City and Colour) song:”So let’s face it. This was never what you wanted.But I know it’s fun to pretend.Now blank stares and empty threats, are all i have. So drown me, if you can. Or we could just have conversation.I fall, i fall, i fall down. But I find you before I drift away. Now you still speak of day old hate,Though your whole world has gone up into flamesAnd isn’t it great to find that you’re really worth nothing,And how safe it is to feel safe.” Something about those words answer a deep something. I first heard those words, and deep inside I felt a sigh of relief, as though to say finally someone understands me. Really good lyrics do that. They express what we ache to express but haven’t figured out how. It’s how we feel safe. It’s how we know we’re not alone. Other people read.
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