Five minutes, any day. Spent writing—something anything not for anyone anything no edits no outlines no plans no correction, this is where it goes.enjoy.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

I'm in a Funk


Frustrated frustrated frustrated.

I think today would be most perfectly described by a Switchfoot song if I only reworded the lyrics a little.

I'm not fine
I'm just bent on getting by
I'm not fine
I'm worse than just okay...

Today has just been one  of those days that demand stomping around barefoot, yelling at the empty house and being mad.  Mad at everything even though there's really nothing to be mad about.  Today has been one of those days where you stand at the window in front of your kitchen sink and glare at the snow and let out a little irked huff just because it looks pretty.

It's not a happy Relient K day.

It's more of a Doom soundtrack day.

Aggravated, aggravated, aggravated.

And aggravating.

Because there isn't anything to be mad about.  I mean little things yes.  Things don't go right.  Plans get messed up.  People are short with each other.

It's a time when usually I can just shrug and say, "Eh.  Ce la vie."

Unfortunately that day is not today.

I can only keep from totally despising my petty nature by hoping that when I'm not a teenager anymore my emotions will stable out a little and I won't feel like kicking a puppy on my bad days.

For now I'm just glad we don't have a puppy.


Saturday, December 24, 2011

Fall on your knees and hear those angel's voices . . .

I have been trying very hard to imagine, this whole Christmas season, what the night sky must have looked like when the angels appeared.

I've been squinting up into the midnight sky, peering through my windows and struggling to visualize the light suddenly bursting forth, the angels appearing from nowhere, the song.

From the sound of crickets and sheep munching on grass to glorious angel song.

From huddling in deep black air to standing beneath the brightness of the sun in the middle of the night.

From dozing off to all of that celebration.

I'd really love to have been there.  But until then, I guess I'll just stay here by my December window and breathe mist across the icy glass, staring up to the cloudy suburban sky and just wonder.  Wonder at it all.

From darkness to light.

From hopelessness to more hope than one could ever dream.

From separation from God to eternal and holy communion with Him in the realest sense.

From boundaries to curtains torn.

From piercing, ripping pain and bloody nails to heaven-- glorious heaven.

His plan is simply indescribable.

It takes the breath away from my very lungs


Oh Holy Night is such a beautiful picture of this.

Saturday, December 17, 2011


Quotes have always struck me as a quasi-hilarious thing.  I mean, it's my opinion stated by someone else.  I could possibly have done it as elegantly, but just because someone else said it, it suddenly holds more weight in papers, projects, conversation and speeches.  Two people see the same way.  The opinion goes from being moot to being the more memorable part of the entire exchange.

There are some things I just don't get, you know?  Like quotes.  Also I don't get why people say "Tell me about it".  I just did, didn't I?

I was reading a Calvin and Hobbes at my Grandmother's house the other day.  It was talking about the absurd and how if we couldn't be amused at the absurd how it might not be possible for us to react to certain things at all.

I wonder how God feels about the absurd?

I mean, He created everything with a purpose.  But He also likes to have fun.  He likes jokes.  He likes playfulness. I wonder how He sees the absurd things we laugh at.

Do we laugh because we do not understand?

Perhaps if we sought to understand before mockery, the world might be a better place.

But then again, maybe not.



Here's the comic I was talking about:
Interesting, don't you think?

Thursday, December 8, 2011


Sometimes I think I am a very cynical person.

I'm happier than most, yes.  Well, maybe not most, but a lot of people anyhow.  I have things to be thankful for:  I'm surrounded by great people, plenty of things I need, I'm provided for, loved by my family, I'm being educated, furthered, sheltered, loved.  I have a lot.

And yet, happiness is not derived from what you have.

Joy is not a result of circumstances.

Sometimes I think I'm a very cynical person.

I have a lot, but I still want more.  I have plenty of friends, but I still feel alone, and yet I have no wishes to get to know anyone new.  I have so few responsibilities, but the weight of them and those to come is dreadfully crushing.

Sometimes I just have really awful days.  Not on the outside, of course, but the inside.  I can be a very hateful person, towards people, towards things, towards circumstances.  I am a malcontent.

How hard would it be to look up at the sky every once in a while?

To have your feet on the ground, but your eyes on the stars.

Dreamers get let down, of course.  But doesn't everyone?

When did I decide that dreaming wasn't worth it?


I need to be reminded of the little things, sometimes, I think.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

What Can I Do

I feel like this every day of my insignificant life.
But I am not ill-equipped.  I am not without weapons, without cause.  I am without motivation.
I am apathy.
There is so much that I can do.  So much!  What can I do?  Never enough.  But I can do something and that something is so much because it is still something.  Value.  It has value.
Where I am now there is no value.  There is no meaning.  I just exist, apathetic, stagnant, helpless, impactless, existing for what?  For nothing.  For myself, which is worse than nothing.
I don’t matter.  My wishes do not matter.  I do not matter, not me, my dreams, my hopes, desires, cravings, feelings, fleeting thoughts.  I don’t matter.  I am but an empty vessel, filled with that which I choose to fill myself with, waste myself on, anything that does not matter, that does nothing for those hopeless individuals around me, nothing for even myself.  I live my days and they are over and they are nothing but a blur and a smudge and it doesn’t matter because I’ve done nothing, nothing at all but waste all of my precious gifts.
I am an empty vessel
Prod me.  Whip me.  Stab me.  Compel me.  Direct me.  Force me, Dear God, force me.  I cannot do anything because I cannot force myself to stir, force myself to be anything but an empty vessel filled with fleeting thoughts, passing entertainments, shallow ideals.  I am afraid and my fear keeps me from breathing, living, doing anything anything at all
Force me
because I am an empty vessel
created by You
and You
do what you will
with this earthen vessel
for I cannot move myself to do anything at all

Sunday, December 4, 2011

In Years Past

Red lipstick
and classy high heels

Bowling hats
and black and white wingtips

Music and dancing
Twirling skirts and laughing groups

not found now
But I don't think it's because it doesn't exist

It's because girls have forgotten to act with grace
And boy to open the doors

It's because boys forgot to walk closer to cars
and girls to lower their voices

It's because we don't act with class
Or pretend we're worth respect

We are simply loud and demanding
Demanding and who wants to respect that?
Who will open her door?
Who will encourage him?

We've lost all our class

It's a sad, sad thing

but every time you slouch
and burp
and demonize yourself

you're not being funny

and you're not even being abnormal, anymore. . . .
you're just being

Class would be a beautiful thing to retain
and sophistication is so rare now


Sorry.  Just me thinking out loud, listening to old Christmas music, like Silver Bells and Let It Snow.

I miss when it was normal to be dignified.

Friday, December 2, 2011

The Year 2011

"When one of my fellow employee's iPod ran out of batteries, I let him use mine while cleaning. I can indefinitely occupy myself with my own thoughts and know that it's harder for most people to do the exact same thing for 4+ hours without some kind of entertainment."

I came across this the other day perusing another blog. It was the craziest thing, because it made me stop and think.

Can I indefinitely occupy myself with my own thoughts?  Without noise or music going on in the background?

I used to be able to.  I've blogged about it before (but not here).  I love long car rides (without small children) when I can just sit in the backseat and look out the window and think.  Philosophical quiets, I've come to know them as.  Silence where I can just be, at rest with myself.

I was sitting here in my bedroom all alone, my older set of brothers downstairs quietly, the younger set away for a while with my parents.  I was doing homework and listening to music.  And then, as I reached over to turn His Favorite Christmas Story up, I realized.  There is no one home.  The house is quiet.

Why do you need to be listening to something and ruining the quiet?

Can you really focus on your government when you're humming along to Christmas carols?

I understand that music is a wonderful thing, but my brief silences need not be marred by a sort of ADD buzz in the background. There's nothing wrong with focusing on one thing. (Internet, I'm talking to you.)

I used to be able to indefinitely occupy myself with my own thoughts.

Sitting here, thinking, in the quiet, I'm just not sure if I can anymore.