I was praying yesterday and I started to pray that I can just sit back in my life and watch things play out.
Watch things play out without becoming so invested and emotionally hooked over things that are happening in my life.
...
I want more trust in God. More trust that if I'm not incredibly proactive about every single thing that the big picture of my life will still be good; even if the details don't always go the way I think I want them to.
I have a terrible habit of getting really involved and invested in things that are just details. Details that i could/should probably just leave to God.
...
I asked God to help me relax and sit back. To not become so attached to a particular detail that it hurts me when it doesn't go my way.
If there is any short-coming in how I interact with God and live my life, that's it: I don't trust Him with the details.
...
I trust Him with the big picture, but not the details.
...
Peace.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Bond. James Bond.
I went and saw Quantum of Solace again last night. I love it far more than Casino Royale, and I am well aware that puts me in the minority of people. I LOVE Quantum of Solace. I love Daniel Craig in that movie. I love Bond in that movie. I love all the shots. I love everything Marc Forster did. I love the script. I love everything about it.
I want to be that Bond. I want to be that attractive, that confident, and that carefree. I want it.
...
I'm incredibly jealous of James Bond in that movie because he loves no one. He loved someone, and they were taken from him. Sure he is hurting, and probably dying inside, but for some reason, in my current position in life, I see him as free. He is actually engulfed in anguish and revenge, but he truly has nothing to lose and nothing to maintain. I feel so jealous of that.
...
I feel like I'm working to maintain so much love in my life. It's all conditional. I'm a slave to it. Bond isn't. He doesn't want it.
He is free from the need I am a slave to.
...
I doubt he's permanently free. No one is. But even for a moment, I'd love to feel that freedom. He has so much confidence in who he is because he's free. He is just who he is; he isn't trying to impress anyone. He doesn't need anyone's love or affection. He doesn't long for it.
I do.
I want to be free from the debilitating, restricting desire and need to be accepted and feel loved. To feel free of the obligation of working for people's love.
...
I want to be James Bond. He's free.
...
Peace.
I want to be that Bond. I want to be that attractive, that confident, and that carefree. I want it.
...
I'm incredibly jealous of James Bond in that movie because he loves no one. He loved someone, and they were taken from him. Sure he is hurting, and probably dying inside, but for some reason, in my current position in life, I see him as free. He is actually engulfed in anguish and revenge, but he truly has nothing to lose and nothing to maintain. I feel so jealous of that.
...
I feel like I'm working to maintain so much love in my life. It's all conditional. I'm a slave to it. Bond isn't. He doesn't want it.
He is free from the need I am a slave to.
...
I doubt he's permanently free. No one is. But even for a moment, I'd love to feel that freedom. He has so much confidence in who he is because he's free. He is just who he is; he isn't trying to impress anyone. He doesn't need anyone's love or affection. He doesn't long for it.
I do.
I want to be free from the debilitating, restricting desire and need to be accepted and feel loved. To feel free of the obligation of working for people's love.
...
I want to be James Bond. He's free.
...
Peace.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Pseudo Good Morning
I had a really weird experience. Kinda like Deja Vu. Maybe exactly like Deja Vu, but I'm no Deja Vu expert.
I woke up early this morning because I slept like crap last night and waking up far before I wanted to was just the perfect way to end it.
...
I really did not like high school most of the time I was in it. That seems to be the consensus for most people once you are a few years removed from it. I especially hated the morning before I would drive to school, or get on the bus when I was even younger.
I would wake up and stumble around the house to the bathroom and then my room and then the kitchen and then back to my room and do all the things necessary to get ready to leave. When I was too young to drive to school, I remember being ready a few minutes before the bus would come and just sitting in my living room far too early in the morning watching SportsCenter on ESPN. This really sucked because I never got to see a full episode and always managed to see the bus coming down the street right as the highlights I really wanted to see were coming on.
It was very frustrating. Especially since I was already frustrated to be awake and miserable I was going to school for the next 8 hours.
The other thing that really sucked about those mornings sitting and watching SportsCenter was that, depending what time of year it was, there wasn't even anything I was interested in being talked about. When I was younger, all I cared about was football. I never liked baseball or hockey or basketball highlights because I didn't care much about the sports.
...
I hated baseball season. Basketball and hockey seasons were no better, but baseball season just seemed sooooo long. And there are games everyday. Its not like I knew that Monday mornings was the day SportsCenter was going to be covering all the baseball highlights because baseball was played on Sunday. No no no. Everyday, for months, baseball ruled the highlights and the news and the commentary on SportsCenter.
I hated those months.
I hated being awake in the mornings.
I hated high school.
At that point in my life, I was a very unhappy young kid.
...
This morning I woke up way too early and rolled over in bed fully aware I was not going to get back to sleep. I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV and flipped over to SportsCenter. They were showing highlights of a basketball game. A Knicks game I cared nothing about.
In that moment, the feelings of being miserable for being awake too early and the dissappointment/disatisfaction/indifference of watching highlights I was completely uninterested in fused together in a fashion very similar to that of what I used to feel daily in 9th grade.
My stomach dropped, and I hated life for a moment.
...
How weird that feeling was captivates me. I was so discouraged. I hate being miserable, but in that moment I was fully aware that I was miserable because of circumstances that no longer exist and I just had a flashback of emotions from 6 years ago. It was fascinating and it sucked real bad at the same time.
Crazy.
Luckily I changed the channel and watched music videos on Vh1. That might have been no better, except they no longer videos and songs from 2003. I'm grateful for that.
...
Peace.
I woke up early this morning because I slept like crap last night and waking up far before I wanted to was just the perfect way to end it.
...
I really did not like high school most of the time I was in it. That seems to be the consensus for most people once you are a few years removed from it. I especially hated the morning before I would drive to school, or get on the bus when I was even younger.
I would wake up and stumble around the house to the bathroom and then my room and then the kitchen and then back to my room and do all the things necessary to get ready to leave. When I was too young to drive to school, I remember being ready a few minutes before the bus would come and just sitting in my living room far too early in the morning watching SportsCenter on ESPN. This really sucked because I never got to see a full episode and always managed to see the bus coming down the street right as the highlights I really wanted to see were coming on.
It was very frustrating. Especially since I was already frustrated to be awake and miserable I was going to school for the next 8 hours.
The other thing that really sucked about those mornings sitting and watching SportsCenter was that, depending what time of year it was, there wasn't even anything I was interested in being talked about. When I was younger, all I cared about was football. I never liked baseball or hockey or basketball highlights because I didn't care much about the sports.
...
I hated baseball season. Basketball and hockey seasons were no better, but baseball season just seemed sooooo long. And there are games everyday. Its not like I knew that Monday mornings was the day SportsCenter was going to be covering all the baseball highlights because baseball was played on Sunday. No no no. Everyday, for months, baseball ruled the highlights and the news and the commentary on SportsCenter.
I hated those months.
I hated being awake in the mornings.
I hated high school.
At that point in my life, I was a very unhappy young kid.
...
This morning I woke up way too early and rolled over in bed fully aware I was not going to get back to sleep. I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV and flipped over to SportsCenter. They were showing highlights of a basketball game. A Knicks game I cared nothing about.
In that moment, the feelings of being miserable for being awake too early and the dissappointment/disatisfaction/indifference of watching highlights I was completely uninterested in fused together in a fashion very similar to that of what I used to feel daily in 9th grade.
My stomach dropped, and I hated life for a moment.
...
How weird that feeling was captivates me. I was so discouraged. I hate being miserable, but in that moment I was fully aware that I was miserable because of circumstances that no longer exist and I just had a flashback of emotions from 6 years ago. It was fascinating and it sucked real bad at the same time.
Crazy.
Luckily I changed the channel and watched music videos on Vh1. That might have been no better, except they no longer videos and songs from 2003. I'm grateful for that.
...
Peace.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
It Runs In The Family
I talked to my mom about theology and God last night. We talk about that stuff sometimes. It's normally her just asking me lots and lots of questions. It's always tough. All she wants is to understand and hear God so she can follow Him well. It's kinda like, "who doesn't, right?!" But it's not that simple.
Because I don't a lot of the time.
I mean, I do, but I'm really afraid because I feel like it's going to be hard or scary or not what I want.
I think a lot of the time I still do what I know/think is right more than what I want, but not always. Definitely not always.
I'm real real selfish.
...
I admire my mom's childlike faith, and I feel bad she doesn't understand that she knows God enough to follow Him. She always thinks He's judging her, but in an irritated parental fashion. Very ungraceful. It's tough to get her to think otherwise. She isn't very comfortable with the idea of unconditional love, but who is?
I think she knows God enough to follow Him well. I know she does. Maybe she just lacks a confidence in her own spiritual maturity and understanding. Maybe I just have way too much in mine.
...
I want to always have a deep conviction and passion to follow Him in everything I do, even the small things, like she does. To follow because He loves me and died for me.
A lot of the time I do, but definitely not always.
...
Peace.
Because I don't a lot of the time.
I mean, I do, but I'm really afraid because I feel like it's going to be hard or scary or not what I want.
I think a lot of the time I still do what I know/think is right more than what I want, but not always. Definitely not always.
I'm real real selfish.
...
I admire my mom's childlike faith, and I feel bad she doesn't understand that she knows God enough to follow Him. She always thinks He's judging her, but in an irritated parental fashion. Very ungraceful. It's tough to get her to think otherwise. She isn't very comfortable with the idea of unconditional love, but who is?
I think she knows God enough to follow Him well. I know she does. Maybe she just lacks a confidence in her own spiritual maturity and understanding. Maybe I just have way too much in mine.
...
I want to always have a deep conviction and passion to follow Him in everything I do, even the small things, like she does. To follow because He loves me and died for me.
A lot of the time I do, but definitely not always.
...
Peace.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Be Specific
I bought a journal last week. I've been told it looks "very me." I'm pumped about that, because I like how it looks. I must like my style.
I want to journal in 2009. I hope I'll be consistent with it. I'm pretty sure I won't do it everyday, but I want to try.
Just the idea that this book exists scares the hell out of me. Literally scares me to death. The idea that someone could read it and see things I thought that I'm not ready for them (or anybody?) to hear... It just scares me to have something tangible that other people can engage simply by having it that will expose me for me. I have a deep fear that if people know me, then they won't like me anymore. I think most people have that fear. This book just intensifies the possibility of people figuring out who I am.
In any event, I've decided to post here, my first journal entry that I just wrote. Well, at least the first 30% or so of it. I hope it is enlightening. It was for me just to write it.
...
"So here I start, journaling... It's a pretty scary proposition to me. I feel terrified that a book could even record thoughts that I don't want anyone else to see. Not that I necessarily don't want people to know some of the things I write, but I don't think that everything I write is going to be material that I'm okay with people reading.
I'd rather this not be like my blog, ya know?
In the blog, I censor myself. I have to. The material I post in there needs to be material that I'm okay with other people reading and knowing and just understanding that I think about X, Y, and Z a lot even though I know I shouldn't. I know I shouldnt think about or dwell on girls and love and relationships and money or whatever else I freak about. I think a lot about things that don't really deserve or warrant the attention I give them. A whole lot. A way way lot. A lot more than I should. A lot.
I don't talk about those things in the blog. They make me seem real weak and crazy and broken. They make me seem like I have baggage and I hate the idea of people thinking I have baggage. HATE IT. So I don't show it. I don't blog about the things that are painful and heartbreaking and hurtful and consuming. They're just too much.
Instead, I only blog about processed things. It's not like I think people don't know that I'm weak and crazy and broken, but to show anyone, in a blog, specifically why and who and how I am broken and hurting and weak: that is just terrifying, and I don't think it's appropriate. So I won't do it.
And that's why I've started this. So I can consistently be specific somewhere outside the the 23 inch circumference of my head. Here I can name names and record vivid memories and emotions and experiences that might be too open for a blog. On the blog, that would just make me seem pissy or crazy. But here... here it just makes me, me."
...
After that I went on to name names and tell stories. I'd say more but it wouldn't be appropriate.
...
Peace.
I want to journal in 2009. I hope I'll be consistent with it. I'm pretty sure I won't do it everyday, but I want to try.
Just the idea that this book exists scares the hell out of me. Literally scares me to death. The idea that someone could read it and see things I thought that I'm not ready for them (or anybody?) to hear... It just scares me to have something tangible that other people can engage simply by having it that will expose me for me. I have a deep fear that if people know me, then they won't like me anymore. I think most people have that fear. This book just intensifies the possibility of people figuring out who I am.
In any event, I've decided to post here, my first journal entry that I just wrote. Well, at least the first 30% or so of it. I hope it is enlightening. It was for me just to write it.
...
"So here I start, journaling... It's a pretty scary proposition to me. I feel terrified that a book could even record thoughts that I don't want anyone else to see. Not that I necessarily don't want people to know some of the things I write, but I don't think that everything I write is going to be material that I'm okay with people reading.
I'd rather this not be like my blog, ya know?
In the blog, I censor myself. I have to. The material I post in there needs to be material that I'm okay with other people reading and knowing and just understanding that I think about X, Y, and Z a lot even though I know I shouldn't. I know I shouldnt think about or dwell on girls and love and relationships and money or whatever else I freak about. I think a lot about things that don't really deserve or warrant the attention I give them. A whole lot. A way way lot. A lot more than I should. A lot.
I don't talk about those things in the blog. They make me seem real weak and crazy and broken. They make me seem like I have baggage and I hate the idea of people thinking I have baggage. HATE IT. So I don't show it. I don't blog about the things that are painful and heartbreaking and hurtful and consuming. They're just too much.
Instead, I only blog about processed things. It's not like I think people don't know that I'm weak and crazy and broken, but to show anyone, in a blog, specifically why and who and how I am broken and hurting and weak: that is just terrifying, and I don't think it's appropriate. So I won't do it.
And that's why I've started this. So I can consistently be specific somewhere outside the the 23 inch circumference of my head. Here I can name names and record vivid memories and emotions and experiences that might be too open for a blog. On the blog, that would just make me seem pissy or crazy. But here... here it just makes me, me."
...
After that I went on to name names and tell stories. I'd say more but it wouldn't be appropriate.
...
Peace.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Semester Hindsight
So here I am, a week and a half into Christmas break, and I'm just now writing a blog. My intellectual production is apparently less than stellar.
Maybe that isn't the case. Maybe the things that are on my mind are just things that aren't blog material (for a number of reasons). Actually, I'm completely positive that is the case.
I'll try to start thinking thoughts that are fitting to be disclosed in blog format.
...
Regardless, I might as well talk about what I have been up to.
-sleep
-additional sleep
-working out (I joined a gym)
-reading (not as much as I hoped)
-writing (nowhere near as much as I hoped)
-thinking (a whole lot about things that don't deserve the attention I give them)
I've decided that since this is a break, that is exactly what I'm going to make it. This month off will be a break that allows me to recover from the strain of my 5th semester at Malone.
...
This past semester sucked. Well, I shouldn't be so fast to say that. My schedule sucked. I felt very stretched when it came to time. Far too many days I thought I needed there to be more than 24 hours in that day so I could take some time and slow down. That is a ridiculous feeling to have when you are 20 years old, at least I think it is.
I literally remember thinking that and then saying to myself, "Whatever is wrong here is in the way I'm doing things. There is no way in hell I can actually be feeling like this."
My classes weren't bad, but they weren't amazing. There is a good chance that the schedule I was working with made it harder for me to enjoy my classes. That is a very strong possibility, so I won't put any blame on them.
...
There were things about this semester that were awesome.
Move groups were awesome. Hearing the positive feedback and the passion of some students involved. The impact we made through the days with Multi-Development Services and everything else... that was amazing. It was all God, and it was awesome to watch it happen.
Being a CA was awesome. To invest in people, to try and be a resource to people however you can, that was cool. I don't think I was a very good CA, if I'm honest. There is a right way and a wrong way to go about being a CA and I feel like I learned so much about how to do things well by not doing them so well right off the bat. I loved my class, I loved my students, and I loved my professor. There is no way if I do it again that I could have as positive of an experience as I did this time. Maybe I'm wrong... but I really don't know.
...
Well, it is what it is. Break is break and God is God. Sometimes when I say things like that people give me a weird look. I think I just mean that God is still God and He is still in control just like always, and break is here and it is a break from all the things I knew it would be a break from. It's predictable.
Maybe it also carries the tone that break isn't as fulfilling as I hoped or thought it could be, so I remember that God is God and that means He is fulfilling. Even though that is a good way to think, I always say is as if I'm dissappointed. I probably am. I probably should get over it. My bad.
...
This blog isn't riveting. I'm aware. I have other thoughts. But they aren't refined enough or appropriate topics to be processed in this place. I'm sorry. I feel guilty for that. I probably shouldn't. I probably should get over it.
My bad.
...
Peace
Maybe that isn't the case. Maybe the things that are on my mind are just things that aren't blog material (for a number of reasons). Actually, I'm completely positive that is the case.
I'll try to start thinking thoughts that are fitting to be disclosed in blog format.
...
Regardless, I might as well talk about what I have been up to.
-sleep
-additional sleep
-working out (I joined a gym)
-reading (not as much as I hoped)
-writing (nowhere near as much as I hoped)
-thinking (a whole lot about things that don't deserve the attention I give them)
I've decided that since this is a break, that is exactly what I'm going to make it. This month off will be a break that allows me to recover from the strain of my 5th semester at Malone.
...
This past semester sucked. Well, I shouldn't be so fast to say that. My schedule sucked. I felt very stretched when it came to time. Far too many days I thought I needed there to be more than 24 hours in that day so I could take some time and slow down. That is a ridiculous feeling to have when you are 20 years old, at least I think it is.
I literally remember thinking that and then saying to myself, "Whatever is wrong here is in the way I'm doing things. There is no way in hell I can actually be feeling like this."
My classes weren't bad, but they weren't amazing. There is a good chance that the schedule I was working with made it harder for me to enjoy my classes. That is a very strong possibility, so I won't put any blame on them.
...
There were things about this semester that were awesome.
Move groups were awesome. Hearing the positive feedback and the passion of some students involved. The impact we made through the days with Multi-Development Services and everything else... that was amazing. It was all God, and it was awesome to watch it happen.
Being a CA was awesome. To invest in people, to try and be a resource to people however you can, that was cool. I don't think I was a very good CA, if I'm honest. There is a right way and a wrong way to go about being a CA and I feel like I learned so much about how to do things well by not doing them so well right off the bat. I loved my class, I loved my students, and I loved my professor. There is no way if I do it again that I could have as positive of an experience as I did this time. Maybe I'm wrong... but I really don't know.
...
Well, it is what it is. Break is break and God is God. Sometimes when I say things like that people give me a weird look. I think I just mean that God is still God and He is still in control just like always, and break is here and it is a break from all the things I knew it would be a break from. It's predictable.
Maybe it also carries the tone that break isn't as fulfilling as I hoped or thought it could be, so I remember that God is God and that means He is fulfilling. Even though that is a good way to think, I always say is as if I'm dissappointed. I probably am. I probably should get over it. My bad.
...
This blog isn't riveting. I'm aware. I have other thoughts. But they aren't refined enough or appropriate topics to be processed in this place. I'm sorry. I feel guilty for that. I probably shouldn't. I probably should get over it.
My bad.
...
Peace
Friday, November 28, 2008
Reminiscence
It's been a month. I've been busy, and I'm sorry. Excuses are lame, I know; so I'll stop.
...
One of my friends told me I was reminiscent lately. I actually wish that were more true.
...
In my life, it is so easy to forget God when things are going well. I have a terrible memory. It is absolutely awful. I don't necessarily forget names or details or information; I forget things that are more important.
I forget God.
...
I always have. When things are going well in my life, I feel like I'm in control. I'll think that I'm the reason things are going well. I've started to make the right decisions and finally I have this little part of life figured out. Finally, I understand how to make this happen the right way.
The truth is quite different, however. In reality, the reason I forget God is because when things are bad I have to cry out for Him. When things are bad, I can't get through without God. So I cry out and beg for Him to walk with Him and put all my focus on Him.
I need Him because I am weak.
...
The change comes when I experience success. Success socially, or romantically, or academically, or emotionally. That success gives me this ridiculous feeling of self-sufficiency. It makes me think that I don't need Him anymore, because I can take it from here.
The sad part is that once I get to that point, I then have the greatest chance to completely mess up everything.
...
I need to stop forgetting God. I forget that God got me to where I am. I forget that God gave me these people in my life. I forget that God gave me the opportunity to be where I am.
I forget things that I absolutely KNOW.
...
It is frustrating to have this kind of a memory. I can only imagine how much it hurts to be where God is, on the other side. I'd hate to care about a person who constantly forgets or rejects my desire to love them and do life with them.
It's like I tell God that He can sit this one out; I got it.
When the truth is all I've got is the recipe to fail. All I have is the experience of screwing up great things. Unfortunately, I forget that I don't have any other experience.
...
I really don't want to forget God. I don't want to forget the things I know. I don't want to forget that my life runs through Him.
Those are terrible things to forget. Trust me.
...
Peace.
...
One of my friends told me I was reminiscent lately. I actually wish that were more true.
...
In my life, it is so easy to forget God when things are going well. I have a terrible memory. It is absolutely awful. I don't necessarily forget names or details or information; I forget things that are more important.
I forget God.
...
I always have. When things are going well in my life, I feel like I'm in control. I'll think that I'm the reason things are going well. I've started to make the right decisions and finally I have this little part of life figured out. Finally, I understand how to make this happen the right way.
The truth is quite different, however. In reality, the reason I forget God is because when things are bad I have to cry out for Him. When things are bad, I can't get through without God. So I cry out and beg for Him to walk with Him and put all my focus on Him.
I need Him because I am weak.
...
The change comes when I experience success. Success socially, or romantically, or academically, or emotionally. That success gives me this ridiculous feeling of self-sufficiency. It makes me think that I don't need Him anymore, because I can take it from here.
The sad part is that once I get to that point, I then have the greatest chance to completely mess up everything.
...
I need to stop forgetting God. I forget that God got me to where I am. I forget that God gave me these people in my life. I forget that God gave me the opportunity to be where I am.
I forget things that I absolutely KNOW.
...
It is frustrating to have this kind of a memory. I can only imagine how much it hurts to be where God is, on the other side. I'd hate to care about a person who constantly forgets or rejects my desire to love them and do life with them.
It's like I tell God that He can sit this one out; I got it.
When the truth is all I've got is the recipe to fail. All I have is the experience of screwing up great things. Unfortunately, I forget that I don't have any other experience.
...
I really don't want to forget God. I don't want to forget the things I know. I don't want to forget that my life runs through Him.
Those are terrible things to forget. Trust me.
...
Peace.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Fortune Teller
Jesus isn't safe.
Jesus really effs with your life.
Jesus makes things hard.
Jesus puts what I care about in danger.
But that is only because I care about the wrong things.
...
Sometimes I really believe I am going to go somewhere that isn't safe. Not that I can't or don't do things worth doing here and now, but this feeling just seems to tell me I'm going somewhere very different.
Somewhere where I don't have any cares that could hold me back. (People or things)
Somewhere where I do what Jesus did. (Show people who God is)
Somewhere where I love like Jesus loves. (Unconditionally)
Somewhere where I do things most don't want to do. (Let my heart be broken; over and over)
Somewhere where I am really called to be. (Somewhere different)
Somewhere where I don't even know who will be there with me. (This sucks)
Somewhere where I don't have anything but my character and my actions. (Only He defines me)
Somewhere where nothing matters but Jesus. (Like it should be now, but it isn't)
Good God, that's scary...
Jesus really effs with your life.
Jesus makes things hard.
Jesus puts what I care about in danger.
But that is only because I care about the wrong things.
...
Sometimes I really believe I am going to go somewhere that isn't safe. Not that I can't or don't do things worth doing here and now, but this feeling just seems to tell me I'm going somewhere very different.
Somewhere where I don't have any cares that could hold me back. (People or things)
Somewhere where I do what Jesus did. (Show people who God is)
Somewhere where I love like Jesus loves. (Unconditionally)
Somewhere where I do things most don't want to do. (Let my heart be broken; over and over)
Somewhere where I am really called to be. (Somewhere different)
Somewhere where I don't even know who will be there with me. (This sucks)
Somewhere where I don't have anything but my character and my actions. (Only He defines me)
Somewhere where nothing matters but Jesus. (Like it should be now, but it isn't)
Good God, that's scary...
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Things Exist
Recently I've been telling myself "things exist" over and over.
I write it on my whiteboard. I write it on my wrist. I write it on my arm.
I need to be reminded that "things exist."
...
I need to remember because I have strong desires for specific things deep down in my soul. I want these things so badly now, or in the future, that sometimes it consumes me and everything I do is somehow motivated by trying to get the things I want in my life.
I build these specific things I desire up in my mind to the point that I begin to think that nothing better exists. My head tells me I could never have anything better.
I begin to believe they are the best things that could ever happen in my life.
...
As far back as I can remember, I remember always getting to a point when I really wanted something I began to believe that it was the best thing that I could ever have.
I would really be missing out if I didn't have whatever that was in my life. (And I really didn't want to miss out)
...
But as far back as I can remember, I was always wrong too. There always came new things or people or opportunities that were so much better than anything I had ever seen before in my life. I just had to go through some life to get to them.
Better things existed. Better things had always existed. Even though I was positive they didn't.
...
Things come and things go. Desires change with time. It's tough to think ahead and expect something better when you feel like you have something golden right in front of you, just out of your reach.
I just need to remember that things exist. And they always have.
...
Peace.
I write it on my whiteboard. I write it on my wrist. I write it on my arm.
I need to be reminded that "things exist."
...
I need to remember because I have strong desires for specific things deep down in my soul. I want these things so badly now, or in the future, that sometimes it consumes me and everything I do is somehow motivated by trying to get the things I want in my life.
I build these specific things I desire up in my mind to the point that I begin to think that nothing better exists. My head tells me I could never have anything better.
I begin to believe they are the best things that could ever happen in my life.
...
As far back as I can remember, I remember always getting to a point when I really wanted something I began to believe that it was the best thing that I could ever have.
I would really be missing out if I didn't have whatever that was in my life. (And I really didn't want to miss out)
...
But as far back as I can remember, I was always wrong too. There always came new things or people or opportunities that were so much better than anything I had ever seen before in my life. I just had to go through some life to get to them.
Better things existed. Better things had always existed. Even though I was positive they didn't.
...
Things come and things go. Desires change with time. It's tough to think ahead and expect something better when you feel like you have something golden right in front of you, just out of your reach.
I just need to remember that things exist. And they always have.
...
Peace.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Hair Ties And Life Stories
Last year around this time I found a black hair tie in a friend of mine's bookbag. I put it on my wrist.
Not because it meant anything. That was kind of the point. I actually just did it because I thought it looked kinda cool. Another part of me liked the idea of wearing a wristband that didn't mean anything since everyone always seems to wear wristbands that stand for something. I guess I just wanted to go against the grain a little bit.
...
I had that wristband on my right wrist 24/7. People would ask what it stood for, or what it meant, or why I was wearing it. They always seems so surprised/confused when I would say it didn't mean anything; I just thought it looked kinda cool.
I guess people really don't wear wristbands just for the hell of it. Except me, that is.
...
I tell this story because about 3 weeks ago I lost my black wristband.
And all of a sudden, my meaningless black wristband had a ton of meaning to me. Not intentionally, of course, but I started to catch myself noticing it wasn't on my wrist and then I would begin to remember everything I went through or experienced over the past year of my life.
It was like a chapter of my life could be defined as the chapter I wore this black hair tie on my wrist.
...
To be honest I miss it; I don't want that chapter of my life to end.
...
A couple great friendships grew and formed in this chapter.
-
A couple relationships got off the ground but never went anywhere in this chapter.
-
A lot of great times were shared with my core group of friends in this chapter.
-
I lived in Upper Barclay for the first time in this chapter.
-
I took a hiatus from theater in this chapter.
-
I struggled with pacifism and government in this chapter.
-
I broke a bone for the first time in my life in this chapter.
-
I broke a bone for the second time in my life in this chapter.
-
A lot of great books were read in this chapter.
-
I spent my first summer in Canton in this chapter.
-
I took the longest road trip of my life in this chapter.
-
I hurt a lot of people in this chapter.
-
A lot of people hurt me in this chapter.
-
I loved a lot of people in this chapter.
-
A lot of people loved me in this chapter.
-
I had the internship of a lifetime in this chapter.
-
The vision for Move groups came in this chapter.
-
I pursued and ran from Jesus in this chapter.
-
Jesus pursued me in this chapter.
-
You were in this chapter.
Thank you.
...
I'm going to miss that chapter.
Not because it meant anything. That was kind of the point. I actually just did it because I thought it looked kinda cool. Another part of me liked the idea of wearing a wristband that didn't mean anything since everyone always seems to wear wristbands that stand for something. I guess I just wanted to go against the grain a little bit.
...
I had that wristband on my right wrist 24/7. People would ask what it stood for, or what it meant, or why I was wearing it. They always seems so surprised/confused when I would say it didn't mean anything; I just thought it looked kinda cool.
I guess people really don't wear wristbands just for the hell of it. Except me, that is.
...
I tell this story because about 3 weeks ago I lost my black wristband.
And all of a sudden, my meaningless black wristband had a ton of meaning to me. Not intentionally, of course, but I started to catch myself noticing it wasn't on my wrist and then I would begin to remember everything I went through or experienced over the past year of my life.
It was like a chapter of my life could be defined as the chapter I wore this black hair tie on my wrist.
...
To be honest I miss it; I don't want that chapter of my life to end.
...
A couple great friendships grew and formed in this chapter.
-
A couple relationships got off the ground but never went anywhere in this chapter.
-
A lot of great times were shared with my core group of friends in this chapter.
-
I lived in Upper Barclay for the first time in this chapter.
-
I took a hiatus from theater in this chapter.
-
I struggled with pacifism and government in this chapter.
-
I broke a bone for the first time in my life in this chapter.
-
I broke a bone for the second time in my life in this chapter.
-
A lot of great books were read in this chapter.
-
I spent my first summer in Canton in this chapter.
-
I took the longest road trip of my life in this chapter.
-
I hurt a lot of people in this chapter.
-
A lot of people hurt me in this chapter.
-
I loved a lot of people in this chapter.
-
A lot of people loved me in this chapter.
-
I had the internship of a lifetime in this chapter.
-
The vision for Move groups came in this chapter.
-
I pursued and ran from Jesus in this chapter.
-
Jesus pursued me in this chapter.
-
You were in this chapter.
Thank you.
...
I'm going to miss that chapter.
Peace.
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