crosshairs

my joy is to rediscover who i am.
my joy is to decide for myself what i will be.
where i will go.
what i will do.

i feel wide-eyed.
the excitement is mixed with an overwhelming dread.
a healthy dread.
the dread of a woman with nothing and everything to lose.

but my true joy is in the constant.
for the first time in my life, some things are constant.
i have a church.
i'm friends with my family.
i have a home (it's too expensive, but i'm in love with it).
i have friends that want to keep me.
god and i have agreed to stay together. this time for keeps.

i exhort you to find joy in your constants.
excitement in your knowns.

the hard is what makes it great...

i think that learning how to really love someone as in for the long haul is hugely difficult.

i mean, i guess you already knew that. but in all seriousness, it's an amazing, beautiful, joyful, difficult, painful thing.

and i just realized that it goes on like this forever. this is what it means to really love a person.

also, on another note, did you ever feel like everything that came out of your mouth was dirty socks?

i feel a lot like that lately. dirty socks running rampant. not bad words, not hateful talk, not discouragement, but nasty dirty socks. necessary and useful (or at one time useful) but unpleasant. and ill-timed. and inappropriate in delivery and substance.

clumsy. bumbling. laborious. naive. childish.

this is how i feel about my dirty socks mouth today.

but i'll make it better. i promise.

seems like i have a history of this cycle. i feel like an israelite.

watch i'm gone...

like an acrobat.

wow. what if god told you to do something crazy?

i'm nervous....

images of broken light

pleasant things:

-reading a good book
-taking a bath
-wearing a warm and snuggly sweater that fits perfectly
-talking to a friend
-letting your heart flutter just a little (even though it's a bad idea generally)

cute things:

-a friend speaking with the blush of adoration of her husband of 13 years
-someone nervous to talk to me, trying to get my attention
-little old men with u.s. navy hats and tobacco pipes
-pig tails

and in the words of levi:
rude is bad, penguins are good.
amen.

we'll build us a home out of packaging foam...

i've been thinking about birds lately. i have one. he's precious.

i mean, i've even gotten used to his twirtling and scuffling about in the morning. he's a very nice alarm clock. he likes to wake up about 30 minutes before i need to.

earlier this week was hard. i am out of money. O-U-T. and i ran out of bird seed too! so i was thinking about this little bird. my baby. reliant on me for everything, toys, food, water. he loves music. i love to hear him talk. but i decided to use what little money i did get on myself. and then there are the times when i just plain forget to take care of him.

it makes me think of being in love. sometimes, one person is the human, and the other person is the bird. i tend to be the bird.

okay, i usually end up being the bird.

the bird relishes every bit of attention. the bird waits all day long for some notice or acknowledgement from the person.

fluff the feathers.
dance around with music.
show off.
beg for the object of affection to watch.

you didn't feed me. you forgot my water for days. but all i want is you to sit by me for a little bit and notice me.

i'm only a bird, but i'll defend you. i'm jealous. i don't trust them.

but you i love.

here's the question. why do we let them cage us?

thought of the day #247

i like old men. they are cute. as heck.

fuzzy, sweet, coffee-smelling, glasses-wearing heck.

i decided (not at all in a creepy way) that i would rather be in love with an old man at this point. they are nice. they are calm. they are wise. they are patient. plus, i could borrow their sweaters. and they would buy me hot chocolate.

generalizations, all.

tell me, what do you think of that?

edit: i don't want to be in love with an old man. i want him to be my grandpa. that would be cute. i like them because they're cute. i do not want to make out with them.

on hiatus?

well. it's been a while.
i'll tell you why.

i've waited because it's cold.
because i'm too poor to even pay attention.
because i'm busy.
because i'm sick.

because...
i...
can't.

because i'm lost. are you lost?
maybe if i were lost with someone instead of by myself...

i seem to have misplaced my hope in christ and the good of mankind.

*now taking applications for someone to be lost with* (no prior experience necessary)

après moi le déluge...

so the funny thing is, stevie ray and i were driving through a HUGE puddle last night in one of the lulls during the rainstorms.

he was proving to me that driving quickly through them is the way to get to the other side. much more effective than going slowly and dying out in the middle. floating downstream and crashing. horrible. flames. waves. water everywhere. blood. okay, maybe not blood.

so we made it through on the way to the store to buy dinner, and it was way fun. glorious good times. on the way home, to see how far the water had gone down, we took 13th again. upon re-entering the puddle pond, we were full speed ahead when we spotted the car coming from the other direction. the driver's side window was down!!!

we watched in horror as our truck threw a giant tsunami of water directly into the gaping window of the other driver. and then....

LAUGHTER! holy moses. that was beautiful.

driving away, i couldn't help but wonder...did that person complain and whine about getting wet? probably. realistically though, when one drives through a puddle pond into oncoming traffic with the window down, what right does one have to complain about the water thrown at them?

a commentary on life and human behavior perhaps?

disgusto robusto - the saga continues!

so, disgusto is rearing his ugly head again.

actually, to be truthful, his head is not ugly. he's quite normal looking. the head just seems ugly when it's following you around and saying inappropriate things without warning after a week of silence.

a new level of inappropriate. that is what we have reached.

i'm blushing in anticipation of what i will report to you. which could be proof of it's severity. or of my prudish nature. or both (?)

to preface this, i will say that if you really knew me, you'd know that i sometimes (okay, usually) say suggestive or provocative things without realizing it. i like to think of it as charming naivety, but for some it has been a source of frustration, and often leads to miscommunication. particularly with the opposite sex.

so my facebook status said i was flushed and fluttery. speculation was widespread and diverse as to why. i was completely unaware of what i had implied. but disgusto's response to said status report was the most interesting and subsequently inappropriate of all, making me oh-so-aware of exactly what i had said.

to sum it up: "you know, i could make you flushed."

well alrighty then. gulp.

sparing you the gory details, and my need to stop crawling out of my skin, i'll let your imagination run with this. it was a 20 minute, one-sided conversation.

SO...how much do you love the new season of the office already??? (avoid...)

Temporal Mandibular Joint DISASTER

so, i have these questions, and i want you to consider them carefully.

how important is your jaw to you?

do you take good care of it?

would you let a stranger just go and break it?

do you not really think of your jaw...until it speaks up?

i was one of those who didn't pay much attention, until the day my jaw let me know just how important it was to my happiness and well-being.

and now my my temporal mandibular joint is waging war with the right side of my head. this isn't the first time, but it might be the worst time thus far.

so love your jaw with all your might. and let not the doctor break it for $15,000 and slap braces on your face.

because seriously. $15,000?

presto!

these past few days i've been noticing something.

every time i'm making a decision about where to go. something as small as where to hang out, where to meet someone, what to do with a few minutes of free time... i've done what i didn't initially want to do and it's ended up meaning something incredible.

for example, i wanted to go to starbucks the other night and play cards. instead, my friend wanted to go see her boyfriend, so we went to barnes and noble waaaaaay out east. we ran into these guys that are friends with someone who was with us, i started talking to one of them, and ended up knowing exactly what to say, what to give him to read, and how to understand him in a way that only a fellow music major, accomplished musician, and friends university student (former in my case) could. not to mention, someone had told me the exact thing that i needed to tell him, when i was exactly his age, and in the exact same situation. talk about amazing.

now, you would assume that the following explanation might ensue: god is directing my steps. he is leading me to the situations and conversations that i need to have. he is putting me in people's lives that need to be spoken to through my experience.

okay.

but instead, it kind of freaks me out. i'm not gonna lie.

because let's be honest (well, okay, i'll be honest, maybe you're cooler than me and you don't feel this way) even if my brain knows some schpiel about god and providence, my actual consciousness doesn't know what the crap is going on when things like this happen. it's like a magic trick. i'm in awe. i don't understand. i didn't expect it, even though i went to the magic show. the trick begins, i know what's going to happen, i'm anticipating the end, and to my great shock and surprise, there's the bloody rabbit, and my mouth is hanging open. how did he do that? where did that rabbit come from? holy crap, that's impossible!

didn't i go to the magic show just to see that?

why is my skin all goose-bumpy?

insanity: doing the same things over and over expecting different results.
ridiculousness: repeating futile and illogical sequences of behavior.
insane ridiculousness: "knowing" god's providence in your life and still being genuinely surprised every time an amazing incident occurs (even though i asked for it, and waited for it, and expected it).

or maybe i'm the only one.

karma's a bone-breaking bitch

so a boy (who we shall refer to as disgusto) told me that my broken thumb was karma for not wanting to "get to know him". which is funny. and gross. since he's still married.

but i think disgusto is about to give up. which means all you crazies have a day or so to get in line. because the spot goes quickly when it opens up.

it would be funny if it weren't so darn true. *sigh*

this has all led me to ponder something today. objectification.

what happens when a person that you admire and feel a connection to becomes less important than the idea of what you think they ought to be in relation to you? when is control of the situation more important than respecting the wishes of someone you care about?

i have these two friends. both of them guys. both of whom i respect very much and think the men of the world could really learn from.

sam beam* (not his real name, but the real name of one of his favorite musicians) and i were talking about differentiation the other night (morning?). differentiation between love and lust.

lust says, i must have you now. not your mind, not your heart. well, only those if it gets me closer to accomplishing the result that i feel compelled to pursue. i will persuade, insist, cajole, and otherwise manipulate you into acting/feeling/thinking the way that i want you to. lust is selfish. lust is about the pursuer.

love is different. love is patient. love is kind. recognize that? love is about accomplishing a shared goal, or the glorification and respect of the other. love is never manipulative, selfish, or insistent. love is not desperate or cruel. love grows beautiful things in your life. love is about the beloved.

good gracious that's a smart boy :)

stevie ray* (see above) was comforting me in my frustration at being pursued in such a revolting way. he is very good at comforting me. this is because he's one of the best friends i've ever had and favorite people of all time. i was responding to a comment he had made, when it hit me. i am being objectified.

suddenly, the frustration of being pursued with lust as the sole motivation became less personal and tragedy less imminent. i, the pursued, could finally see the actions of the pursuer as those of desperation and grasping for control. he had decided what he wanted, and my objections were standing in the way of his ability to carry out those desires. it wasn't about me anymore. it was about the pursuer.

stevie ray confirmed this. and assured me that my attempts to hold myself to a ridiculously high standard and keep my relationships holy and righteous were not in vain. that i deserved better. that we all did.

bless his darlin' heart :)

at the end of all this is the idea that disgusto is not alone in his objectification of others. we all do this. all the time. in fact, we do this to god. well, i know that i do. as i was pondering praying for disgusto and his marriage, i was reminded (via a swift kick in the face) that i treat god in much the same way. i am constantly seeking my own outcome, having already made up my mind how things should be. i care not for the desires and glorification of my beloved, but for his response to me and execution of MY will.

*shivers*

ugly no matter how you look at it. i think we should stop doing this.

you have made my day

even if it's a dream.

alright. i admit it. i'm having a torrid love affair.
very secret. kind of embarassing.
we aren't really involving anyone else.
it's been going on for quite some time, but things are really starting to heat up.

a lot of people think i'm crazy. a bit obsessed.
i should be focusing on more important things...
like my new job.
or getting one that pays more.

but i can't stay away from him.
i want to be thinking about him, listening to songs about him.
every song is a love song.
every song makes me want to dance.
every moon, every cloud, every tree.
all of them romantic beyond belief.

and things are hard right now. really hard.
he showed up just in time.
swept me clean off my feet.
he's been trying forever to get my attention.
even when i'm crying he can make me laugh until it hurts.
the best part is, i can trust him completely, he makes me feel so safe.

i have sold my life to the cause of making sure everyone knows how this feels.
i feel like i can't keep this to myself.
i want to sing and dance around and giggle.
he's made everything so beautiful.

yeshua. my jesus.
son of god.
your name is graven on my wrist.
you've given everything for me. and all you want in return is me.
why do you want me? what could i do for you that would make it worth your while?
hold my face in your hands and tell me i'm yours.
i don't need to know the reasons why.
your gift was unimaginable. how can i keep it to myself?

you have made my day
even in stormy weather.
and i'm dancing in a parade
cause you make bad days better.

great is the way that i am unafraid
when i see you
all my fear goes away

if you'd just realize what i just realized...

*sigh* dreamy day.

if i hadn't had a migraine i'd have worked all day.
but i had one. so i didn't.

if you miss me you should tell me. i feel like i never see anybody.

p.s. the people i work with make it totally worth it. usually.

concession

so i've been thinking. usually i assume that no one reads this. my former sunday school teacher, and a huge amazing positive influence and example in my life, reminds me often (love you, alan) that this is not so. well, apparently it's not so.

upon further reflection, it seems that imposing on you all the idea that you should not work for a church, is not my place or my actual intention. i'm just so frustrated. i loved working for the church, even when it was hard. and boy was it hard. but i'm starting to wonder where my life is going.

there's a john mayer song, "stop this train." i've been thinking about it, listening to it a lot. stop this train, i wanna get off and go home again, i can't take the speed it's moving in, i know i can't but honestly won't someone stop this train?

i do have some positive things to say though. i do not hate the church i work for. i do not hate the church universally. i do not hate christians in general. i hate the way i feel right now. and i am begging god for the assurance that it is going to get better. because i believed i should be here. i believed it so much that i came back here. i believe it now so much that i've bypassed huge amounts of money, all kinds of incentives, to stay here and be broke all the time and worry myself to death. because i love god. because i love my family here. because i believe that there are things more important than my ever fluctuating happiness.

i'd have quit my job yesterday if i didn't, TRUST ME.

this is a good time for me to admit that i need some help. i need someone to stand back, try not to jump on me, not draw crazy conclusions, and just tell me they understand and they love me. i haven't heard that once.

and understand the risk i take by explaining all this. i am often misunderstood, and i hate opening myself up to scrutiny like this. but i have to do something to explain that last, cryptic, hastily written, inflammatory post.

be blessed not by my negativity, but by my honesty.

it's all coming back to me now...

i think i finally understand why they call it "heavy heart" when you're sad. it feels like lead.

i don't suppose i have a lot to say. most things are in my mind and have no words to go with them.

everything will be fine.

anyway, people should go swimming. it's really hot outside.

batter my heart, o three personed god!

my chest feels heavy today. weighted. i'm so tired.

sleep is a blessing we often take for granted i think. and when it's denied us, we see it for it's full import.

if i wrote here every day, i might tell you that nothing around me seems to change, but i feel like everything is so different from moment to moment that i can barely conceive of the magnitude of the constant changing and spinning. i've been thinking. in christ, we have this glorious opportunity to remain the same, constant, identified, yet take on whatever identity we choose at any given moment at our own will. and this luxury he has afforded us....because? because it's what we want. and a lover pays attention only to the ultimate happiness of the beloved. that's why. that's why he follows us around, making all of himself so available, so present, that we need only feel the slightest bit inclined to look at him and we're washed over with his power and majesty. and to think. all that glory and beauty, searching and aching for me.

i read in a magazine not long ago that women should choose men who feel lucky to have them. in other words, if the woman is more important, beautiful, worthy, then the man will never cheat on her, always appreciate her, never take her for granted. but if the man is the more glorious one, then she'd better watch out, because there would be no reason for him to limit himself only to her when he could clearly do better. and with this message permeating every inch of our culture and consciousness, how could we ever understand or learn to trust someone or something so great and vast that chose to pursue us relentlessly at the cost of his own dignity and very life. that just sounds silly doesn't it. it's so counterintuitive.

but i think that the plan of the great distractor has always been to make us feel unloved. to get in the middle of this romance and make it seem silly and fallacious. like a girl asking herself why she ever thought this man could love her in the first place. didn't everyone know that he was so far above her in the first place? didn't they all mock her behind her back, thinking all along that he would never see her or appreciate the beauty and love that she had to offer? didn't she always expect him to throw to the ground the pieces of her heart that she carefully prepared for him and left lain out on display for him to see? and if this is how we were raised, if this is how the deceiver has positioned us in our world, then how could we be expected to believe something so outlandish? how much more patience did god need to have with us as we do the very things to him that we expect him to do to us!

but this wonderful tragedy of broken hearts and healing touches is what makes a relationship with god so essential. it's so important and vital to the human heart that all cultures yearn and strive to please and feel accepted by this god that has planted himself in their hearts from birth. i marvel at the way that people born in the middle of the forest, never having access to a missionary, a king james bible, or a tract with the four laws written all over it, can feel and long for the face of the same god that i have been blessed to feel and long for. it makes me wonder why it's so hard for me to listen to him sometimes. why i have to fight him and mistrust his will for me.

but every day, i'm afforded the ability to be whoever i want to be, and he lets me decide what i'll do and how i'll see him every moment. and like a truly good love, when it's good it's great. and when it's bad....whoa becky.

you'd like that wouldn't you...

so, i have to tell you... i talked about my bird, teapot, that i got a month or two ago.

well.

i lost him under the couch last night! it was very stressful. i am just getting to the place where i can get him out and hold him (despite his frequent and voluminous objections) and we don't scare eachother to death. and then he jumps (do birds jump???) out/off of my hand and after a few cute little hop fly scuttles, makes a b-line for under the couch. crumb. he was hard to find. and i didn't want to squish his little cuteness with the legs of the couch by moving it to make him easier to find.

eventually he hopped out from behind it and tried to hide behind my guitar, which was MUCH easier to move without murdering him accidentally. we reached a screeching biting agreement and he went to sleep with a cleaner mirror and new treats to eat while he recovered from his adventure and subsequent heart attack(s).

goodness.

his name was robert paulson.

i am jack's complete lack of focus.

i'm not even trying to play...

so i was talking to my friend just now. she used to work at the coffee shop i'm currently sitting in. i saw that her facebook said that she was feeling like shit. thinking she was sick, i messaged her and asked what was up. we weren't so very close when she was here, mind you. i mean, i saw her mostly every day because she worked in my second home here. but then she moved away, and i continue to come here, but she does not. so that sort of ended the whole convenient friendship thing.

well, she's fighting with her boyfriend. that sucks. i know. but she's not dying of polio or something like that. so, we got to talking about a guy who's hanging up his art here. he's going to use a painting that's covered right now, to propose to his girlfriend. i told her about it, and mentioned that i was jealous. this lead to a conversation about both of us having been engaged before, and then all that goes along with that.

this is where the interesting part comes in. this girl, a preppy, gorgeous, cheerleader type girl, says she feels like something in her is broken. like she can fall in love with someone until she's really in love and then it breaks. something changes. she basically says to me exactly what i feel inside myself. like my inabililty to actually move forward with someone is really beyond my control in a way. i can't stop quitting before i ever really get started. which leads me to believe that i might not be as big of a freak as i think i am. is it possible that this is common in our culture? lack of committment isn't just a joke to be made at the expense of boys.

but i have to go. more on this later. ruminate on it for me, will ya?

what kind of day was this?

i'm sitting here, in the middle of the night. on a couch that isn't mine. in a house where i do not live. using a computer that isn't mine. wearing a sweatshirt that isn't mine. drinking milk that isn't mine. waiting for someone who isn't coming down the stairs.

depressing as it seems, it is yet quite comforting. i like this place. it's a good life we have.

the heater is squeaking strangely. i've never noticed it before. maybe it's because it's so quiet now. so very quiet. you see, i'm at the boys' house. matthew's been gone for a few days, and he's home, but he's sleeping now. i didn't even see him when i came in, because he has to work at 6 am. and i took josh to the airport today with travis. now they're in portland. so he's going to be gone for several days. but i came back tonight. and here i sit. mostly because i might not actually live here, but it's more comfortable for me to sit on this couch alone, no real excuse for being here, than it is to sit in my own house alone, listening to my bird tell me how much he hates being alone. i agree with him.

i miss the boys. i miss my family.

i like the comforting silence of sleeping households. i told someone the other day that my ideal life would be standing in my darkened house some day. i'll be old, tired, and so very happy. i want to have so many children and grandchildren that i have to step all around and over them to get to the bathroom on christmas eve night. and i'll stand in the door way smiling, my heart warm and full. then i'll know that feeling of completion, having accomplished the most deeply imbedded of god's desires for my life.

so that's why i'm here. other people might not understand why it's perfectly acceptible for me to be sitting here like this. they might not even understand what it means to me to just be here right now. but i know. and the boys know. we're a family of our own. we chose each other. i like to know they're sleeping safely. wherever they are. i like to feel the warmth of knowing we're in the same house. i feel a little less myself when they've been gone for long.

i hope for everyone to know this feeling at some point. as much and as often as possible really.

thanks be to god.

i owe ya one...

things you always wished you knew about me...

my grandparents were born in ireland. so i'm no st. patrick's day poser :)
i love olives. particularly kalamata olives.
listening to the clash makes me think of jesus.
i hate good friday.
i love my daddy more than any other man on earth and i'll marry a man just like him.
wearing heels makes me feel cute and important.
pretty music makes me cry. every time.
i like boys who are the opposite of clean and pretty. and let's hear it for the stubbly beards!

it's so pretty today. i loved laying in bed under the covers, knowing i had nowhere to be, listening to the rain on the metal air conditioner in my window. i loved standing at the door in my pj's and robe, watching the rain wash my driveway and clean off my car.

my bird thinks it's always night time i think because it's been gray and rainy since he came home. oh yeah, i got a new friend. his name is teapot, and he's a blue-green parakeet. he's just lovely. i simply adore him. i'm teaching him to say his name, and whistle the nbc chord. n, b, c. teapot and i are going to be very happy together. i will start trying to hold him tomorrow. wish me luck! he just started making birdy noises today, so i think he's starting to loosen up, but he'll bite me a lot for the next few weeks until we're used to eachother. the girl at the pet store told me he was just a baby though, so it shouldn't draw blood, just pinch a bit. he already proved her wrong. i took him out of his bath tub last night and he bit my finger pretty good, made the cuticle bleed. but he's still the gall-dern cutest thing i've ever seen. n, b, c. :)

finally, in other news, the fight club is an amazingly dark and beautiful movie. i still have no idea what it's about and i've seen it twice. fantastic.

if you could get a telegram from any figure in history, who would you choose, and what would it say? my answer will follow in the next post. ready, go!

things i do not like, and things i do like (not in that particular order of course...)

i like:
sleeping
eating things i should
eating things i should not
taking a bath at night before bed
feeling in control
warm weather with skirts and small shoes
the rain through the windows
album leaf #5

i do not like:
feeling stressed
being with people when i'd rather be alone
people knowing me and refusing to leave me alone
being too busy to be happy
missing my mama and daddy
feeling lame
being lonely

alive!

that's me. rejoining the land o' the living one toenail at a time.

and i'm eating cake. right now, actually. and puffed wheat.

i have this funny spring-ish type stirring in my soul these days. i'm feeling quite romantic, thinking of skirts and green grass, and wishing it were warmer and sunnier.

and lately, it seems that i'm feeling more romantic in other ways too. i was, until very recently, quite content with my station in life. happy with sweet brothers and generally settled in my singleness. but i've been thinking about these ideas. sneaky ideas, conspiring to infiltrate my consciousness. the idea of holding someone's hand. the idea of sitting across from someone in the grass by the river, staring into his eyes, and being unable to see anyone else or think of anything else. the idea of someone singing to me. the idea of liking these ideas.

more than anything, i've been wishing lately that someone thought i was amazing. and not just, wow, she's a good leader/good teacher/excellent friend amazing. i wish someone thought i was so amazing that they were intrigued by me, unable to stop thinking about me, in awe of the things that make me beautiful and different.

and for all this, i blame valentine's day. darn pink hearts.

today.

i almost died.

i got dizzy. fever. dehydrated.

i fell down and hit my head.

then they wanted $1000 to scan my brain.

no way man. rapid onset flu, they said. possible concussion.

now people are brianna sitting.

i don't like being taken care of.

love is...

different.

i don't think it ever really goes away. it just changes. like remembering when you wanted to marry someone. and then hearing yourself tell the lady who is borrowing your phone in brahms that this person is your brother and these beautiful, intelligent, articulate boys aren't your kids.

and love is hard. like trying to forget someone who helped you become who you are.

but love is also worth it. seeing love in the eyes and the face of someone looking only at you. even after all the crud and gunk that's passed between you, time apart, and cruel words.

it's hard to accept. like god's love. unwarrented. undeserved. largely underappreciated.

but it was still there. just different.

huh.

stressful, much?

okay, so i'm a little behind. my friends are amazing at this blogging every day thing. but me...well you know how it is.

i'm frustrated beyond my ability to put it into words. painful. life is friggin painful.

timothy says my blogging is more vague the closer something is to me. the less important it is, the more specific i am. today i'm feeling... unable to control the pain. i want to talk to someone. something. so, you want specific? you got it.

a while ago i wrote about a relationship in my life that had become quite a bit idolatrous in my own heart, and how i had to cut it off. unfortunately, the party of the second part wasn't cooperative or supportive of this decision. i keep thinking eventually he'll give up and leave me alone. but instead he's become increasingly more...well, clingy and obsessed with the idea that everything has to be okay and "go back to normal". and all the while his actions and decisions hurt more and more. and i fall farther and farther into this pit of mean ugliness, becoming this person who looks and acts nothing like me.

and i can't control it! garbh.

but i promised to try. so yesterday came, and everything else fell apart. without going into great depths of gore, i will say that the things i usually lean on, my family, my friends, my church. they all left me. they fell apart. i was holding them together. with my own broken insides, with my barely-able-to-function heart, i was taking care of them all the best i could. and no one was there to take care of me. because i sent them away.

my defense is to shut everything out. which is mean, particularly in the above-mentioned case. if i'm hardly able to move, 3 seconds away from crying, the last thing i can do is look into the eyes of the one person who has been such a rock for me. who shielded me, held my hand, sat with me, listened. the last thing i can do is look into his eyes and see nothing for me. i can't stand up under that. so i didn't. i hid. and i hurt him yet again. i'm still doing it. today. probably tomorrow. all week.

but i wonder, what else can i do?

i don't feel like there's any other choice.

and as for the rest of this business, i just need to keep taking it. like punches to the face. eventually they'll stop.

squeaker

soooo....

did you know that people are more beautiful, exponentially when they smile? you even feel more beautiful when you smile, or at least i do. kind of like convincing the inside to come to the outside for a little while.

funny thing. when people fall off the edge or jump into a hole on super mario brothers, i always catch my breath and my heart races a little bit. people run into things, no big deal. get eaten by turtle-ducks. no sweat. but falling, almost falling, jumping from mushroom to mushroom, spanning caverns and gaping holes. NERVE WRACKING.

and the wii is the new bane of my existence. takes up much mental energy. woot.

garhbhfff

have you ever tried to love someone through a disagreement. a terrible difficulty. tried with all your might. and in the end, your love never reached them through the mess they'd built up and scattered between the two of you?

it's futile. it's frustrating. it's painful and exhausting.

but sometimes people just can't hear things. i mean, i've been that person before.

i might be a little short on patience today anyway, really. it might be a little easier to get to me. i'm already vulnerable. i'm already frustrated.

i'm already feigning a positive outlook.

this guy was scary today. he called me every name in the book. cussed me up one side and down the other. but i suppose i'll have a little patience with him.

i suppose some days at least the inside of me looks a lot like that anyway.

the coolest ever.

i was walking down the street this afternoon in delano, heading back to my car after a totally unnecessary shopping (ad)venture. that's when this idea hit me. i stopped and evaluated myself for a moment.

eeeeeiiirch. just a helpful hint, don't evaluate yourself in the middle of the street, even if you are in a crosswalk. burnt rubber. mmm. brake smell. add that to the evaluation.
check.

weird army-green athletic type jacket from a ski trip on which i never skied.
check.
hot pink vinyl loafers.
check.
recently procured orange wool gloves from the hat store.
check.
mmmmm. lemon grass lip balm from the nice lady at the red store.
check, and double check.
hair that never really dried quite right, no make up, and black plastic rimmed glasses.
check.

it occurred to me that i probably look like someone incredibly mysterious and inspiringly cool...intriguing and endearingly quirky.

then again i may look more like crazy mike's girlfriend.

it's possible that my mumbling/humming, and excessive applications of lip balm made out of foliage might point observers in the direction of the latter. also standing in a crosswalk looking up at the sky tends to encourage doubts about a person's mental faculties.

but i suppose today i'll go with mysterious and endearing.

i've been waiting...

well it sure has been a long while between these two posts. i don't think it's so much that i'm having trouble figuring out when i have time, it's just that it seems like i don't really have anything that i feel is worth saying these days. i came here several days, sitting, staring at the blank box, blinking cursor, and always ended up saving the draft. i would delete anything that made it far enough to publish. i'm all bottled up. it's hard for things to break through and get out.

but this morning i was thinking about the major decisions that i've made in the past 48 hours. i was mulling over some kind of outlet for the pain and frustration they've caused and will continue to cause. and it occurred to me that i've probably waited all of you out, and you don't read this anymore, so i'm completely safe explaining myself here. safe. ha.

idolatry. do you know what it really means to have a problem with idolatry? because i thought i did. and as it tends to be with the things of god, i came quite abruptly to the realization i didn't. a few days ago, it occurred to me that as much crap as i tend to give the israelites for their cyclical issues concerning the subject, i'm a blatant violator of the same commandment and worse yet, i'm in denial.

however, this problem, in my defense, was not as easy to spot. you see, it isn't really any one thing that i place before god. it's....well, it's everything.
relationships. psh.
friendships. boy howdy.
my job. understatement of the year.
it's like i use god's name to get me the v.i.p. pass into any christian event or relationship or conversation that i intend to wriggle my happy little self into. and the piece de resistance...i do everything possible in my minuscule and pathetic power to eliminate any time spent alone with my own thoughts, through which the father might capture my attention and correct me. which creeps out the people i use to accomplish that end, and makes me feel like i don't even know who i am anymore.

and this, my friends, is why i don't write anymore. until now. because i'm facing the demons now. i'm alone now. no one is here to save me from the work that i have to do now. two nights ago i drove around and cried. all night long. from 4 am when my friend and i got done with middle of the night coffee, until 8 am when i had to go to work. i listened to the same song over and over and begged god to tell me just one thing i could do to make this better. to stop this horrible blackness that was eating my insides. to end the voices clamoring for me to stop plugging the holes in my soul with faces. i begged him and he told me. cut it off he said. cut it off, cut it out, remember who you were. how you were. and when i promise god something i do it. there have been people i would have married, places i could have lived, jobs i would have made substantial money doing. but those things weren't god's will. i promised him i wouldn't. i can't break promises to him.

so i'm cutting it off. sawing it roughly, really. jagged edges tearing away at it. breaking nerves, capillaries. i'm bleeding out, and it feels like i might suffocate for the weight of the pain sinking into places i never knew existed. but this one relationship is symbolic of the entirety of my unrighteous ignorance. it hurts me to be alone. but it's righteous pain. they can't save me. they can't fix me. he's my immanuel. i've been plugging that hole long enough.

consider yourself unloaded upon.