ranting and raving away

14 01 2008


the fatigue is always just around the corner, it seems, and i can’t deal with the politics right now. my headphones have been firmly plugged into my ears all day, and i’m getting a bit sick of christian radio, to be honest. too much is going on. i’m very tired today – of all of this.

this sucks.

classes start tonight. thank God.


i actually do have a question…

8 01 2008


it is not your fault. whatever it is that is happening now, that hurts you, that angers you, that depresses you, that’s not your fault. the relationship that is one big eternal heartbreak, melacholy that came from nowhere and seems to be going nowhere soon, a complicated web of half truths and lies to protect someone or something, pointless squabbles between you and the people you love, the sickness of those close to you that you can do nothing about… none of that is your fault.

putting your trust in Jesus doesn’t get rid of the pain, and neither does it dull the sheer difficulty that is everyday life. you’ve been hearing it wrong. just believing and acting every day that you are knowing (present tense to show one is constantly in the process of getting to know something/someone else) the reality of it doesn’t change a thing. all it does is bury the pain deeper and deeper so that it build bigger and bigger until it’s hard to breathe and you’re suffocating from the brutality of having to pretend that everything is… normal.

but there is a hope in the midst of it: this world is not it. do you ever have the feeling that this world we’re in right now, these times of struggle and ambiguity, of warfare, global and personal crises are not “it”? like there is supposed to be more to life, to everything, than this? i’ve heard it said that this life is not “it” and so no matter how crappy things are, or how crappy things get, the goal is the next life. that is, the life we live after we’re dead. we’ll all be sitting in one great big circle, singing ‘grace kelly’ (one of the most sickeningly happy songs in the world, it’ll make the corners of your lips turn up involuntarily).

i don’t buy it.

why do Jesus’ words, “i have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” resonate in my soul the way it does? is what i’m doing living life to the full? if there are things that drag me down, then am i living life to the full? maybe there’s something that i’m missing here.

are you living life to the full today, the way Jesus intended for you to live?

maybe what we’re supposed to do is live a little bit more of Him in each day, so that we’re not waiting for a magical moment when Jesus comes back and swipes the magna-doodle of life clean, but rather, we’re bringing His love and grace, humility and compassion a bit closer to now.


it’s just a thought.

what if i say

13 12 2007

today, it’s been one thing after another. for the last month, it’s been one thing after another. i have ached to do so many things, but have not been able to for one reason or another. i can’t live by what i feel any more.

i’ve been seeing a psychiatrist for a month now. i’ve been taking little pink pills every morning and a little maroon and burgundy pill after dinner every night for a month now. i haven’t been able to see past this fog for a month now.

i’m supposed to become better soon, in a couple more months i’ll be alright, the doc says. i don’t like him.

the tears seem to just be there, and it’s hard to breathe, but harder still to not talk about it. how do i articulate what i can’t even put into words?

i feel trapped. in the privacy of my room now, with this light on my desk on the keys of my laptop, with my notes for the term papers in front of me, all i can see are the shadows that are formed by the light that just doesn’t… reach.

i feel so guilty, like i’m supposed to be a happy, joyful person who is strong, brave, outgoing, independent, free but i’m just not quite making the cut for the improvisation scene. helping the students practice their pieces for the drama events in the speech festival this year was exciting and brutal. i just don’t feel… it. this guilt i feel is not real, just like this heaviness is temporary. i wish i could run like a child again, safe in the knowledge that this moment is it. there’s no past, no future, nothing except for the… what?

but the shittiest thing is that i don’t want to feel this way; i know that there’s so much more to life than this, but this is hurting me quite a bit and i don’t know what to do about it, because it feels like i’m just waiting. i don’t want to leave my job, but i don’t want to stay. i seem to have lost my ability to decide for myself. i expect i’ll regret writing this, but they’re coming now, and the angry beating in my ears is holding back the lump in my throat.