An update. (potentially implied NSFW???)

I just read my most recent posts here.

It has been quite a while since I've written anything here and I have no plans of deleting this blog or anything of the like, but I do have to say that I will not likely be actively active here again anytime soon. Seeing as this has become an echo chamber useful to only myself for when I may decide to write a memoir of my life, I still feel the need to bring any readers (including my future self) up to date with my life at this time.

The relationship with aforementioned person in my August 2012 and 2013 posts is still going. And it's going very well. We are still connected, in so many intimate ways and I could have never asked for a better romantic and every other kind of partner. It's funny, given the history I did outline in those previous posts. But we're making it on our second year already and that is quite remarkable; I had no idea that I'd written of our early relationship online while it was going on, and that was really interesting for me.

This return to journaling is partially inspired by This Star Won't Go Out, the compilation of journal entries and such of Esther Earl, nerdfighter and friend of John Green, to whom his novel, The Fault in Our Stars was dedicated to. It would be out of the John Green spirit to say she is all inspiring and the like as a sick person or the like but that is not why I am inspired by her. She was committed to her story and telling it and knowing it and being present and being empathetic and being a truly genuine and caring human being and that is something I aspire to be. And I've been really aching to write lately, so a daily journal might be one way to go about that. And it might even help me to actually develop a good habit for once.

I might do the writing here, or on one of my tumblogs, or on paper, in one of my many physical diaries.

I didn't write any resolutions for this year. But I'm okay with that. My actual expectations of myself lately have been sort of low for a variety of reasons. I suppose I could go off on the significant events of the previous year:

-I stopped trying to be in the nursing program for my parents, after many awful arguments and much emotional turmoil
-I entered the Human Services program instead
-I got a shitty (HAHAHAAAAAAAAAA) intestinal infection called c. diff in November
-It sucked but now I might be okay-ish but we'll see uggghhh
-C diff is probably the most important thing because....
-...I was also sort of officially diagnosed with anxiety (nothing specific, just anxiety, so uh, thanks, psych professionals; I'm thinking it's probably a mild-moderate GAD) last summer (by MMPI, I believe)
-...and Actual Health Things (tm) make me superfuckinganxious and paranoid and set off hypochondria (and I'm a pretty devoted hypochondriac regardless)
-I did not lose my virginity (like the particular virginity everyone associates with virginity anyway)
-As implied by the parenthetical of the previous statement, I did commit some sexual acts, however
-I stopped working at McDonald's (but I never officially quit working there... heh. greatest regrets.)
-I started working at a grocery store and a tea store (a national chain)
-KINKS!!! I guess I have some! Sometimes!
-I got a yeast infection
-haha that's not important
-I lost my wallet twice and obtained three debit cards through various issues involving lost wallets and potential Target store fraud
-I obsessed over my intestines due to c diff and my dad's intestinal issues and i mean mostly because of c diff and paranoia and hypochondria and anxiety
-I tried some alternative medicine stuff
-Most of my recent months have involved a surprising focus on my bowels seriously it's pretty unexciting
-In other news, I got my wisdom teeth out
-I cooked and baked vegan things
-I cooked and baked gluten free things
-I cooked and baked gluten free vegan things
-Very recently, I momentarily considered the Paleo diet
-Most of my cooking and baking happened right after getting my wisdom teeth out and when I believed I was relapsing from c diff and over my winter break
-I became surprisingly close to someone I only thought of as a middle school ex and now see more realistically
-I became less of an asshole, mostly because of "toxic social justice warriors"
-I became less of an asshole but also more of an asshole
-I became the least religious I've ever been in my entire life
-I no longer fear or really concretely believe in hell, at least as the most common Christian interpretation of it or any interpretation of it
-I'm okay with all this
-...but I wasn't too long ago, as evidenced by the hours ensuing after seeing, of all things, the movie "This is the End" (in which I cried hysterically in a McDonald's parking lot and allowed my boyfriend to comfort me in the most wonderful and affirming ways)
-apocalyptic shit is still a little unsettling for me but I don't believe in hell really
-I actually think I can listen to people now without jumping in with my own input, very much due to (surprisingly!), a class I had to take for my major
-...even so, I still kind of contribute to conversations more than I need to
-But I'm actually developing listening skills and that is something I've wanted for a goddamn while
-I don't know if I'm going to make it through 8+ years of schooling for a fucking doctorate in Clinical Psychology
-But I don't know what else to do really
-A friend of mine from elementary school gave birth (a couple of days ago from this one, actually) and I saw her and her boyfriend/her baby's father and it is quite a thing to know parents and think that one day I might also be a parent and have people walk into a room with just me and my child and the father of my child and have them feel like they're interrupting our time together even though said boyfriend really hates babies
-I have gone through wanting children very much (through adoption and one biological birth), not wanting children at all (because my potential partner and I have fantastically shitty genes in regards to addiction development and mental health and several other factors but honestly mostly those), to wanting to avoid pregnancy only, then back to the first once again
-I went through a period of writing my story like an actual novel and it was fucking incredible
-...the journal that had the most important bulk of that writing is now somewhere lost in Los Angeles in my sister's house
-I went to Los Angeles to visit my sister!!!! for her college graduation!!! With my Dad!!!
-I tried drinking and smoking (...and yeah i mean both mainstream ideas of what smoking implies although the less legal one didn't have as much of an effect on me and it was an exceptionally boring yet like i guess kind of sort of entertaining a little time with me watching the other two people i was with throwing orange peels at each other and racing each other in the yard and laughing hysterically while i was getting none of it. anyway yeah srry)
-I liked drinking and smoking
-I don't do either now
-For reasons
-I wrote a fucking terrible letter to my boyfriend's dad after something happened
-I have been continuously impressed by the evolution of people's relationships
-i have been continuously impressed by the evolution of people
-I have also been impressed by how people choose to stay ignorant
-and how they come up with amazing reasons to be an asshole about basic human dignity sort of things
-I made two good friends, one of them being the aforementioned ex and another being someone I met at Pride in my city
-I became the co-president of a Gay-Straight Alliance
-I finally fucking self-defined as queer/bi/pansexual somewhere
-I have now self-defined as queer on two websites
-Don't tell my parents~~~
-I got pretty defined in my music taste
-It's primarily The Mountain Goats, Death Cab for Cutie, and occasional bouts of nostalgic and unironic listening to the shit I listened to in middle school
-And sometimes other stuff
-I stopped talking to a good friend because she was racist in a Facebook comment on my page
-It was probably a bad idea
-I continue to feel behind my peers but in new and exciting ways
-Most of my best friends are currently in "real college"
-Except for a few of them, but we don't talk nearly enough and haven't formally hung out the entire year, which is rather sad
-I have kind of accepted my selfishness (thank Goooooooooooood but i mean, I still feel guilty as hell sometimes, but I also acknowledge more often how I use those feelings to look how I interpret socially acceptable to look. which is odd)
-I am a strong existentialist as far self-construction of meaning and reality goes
-I have learned some things about psychological states that I wouldn't have otherwise learned
-I didn't write anything for NaNoWriMo.
-I had a phase of making out in my/E(romantic partnerrrrr/boyfriend)'s car
-It was quite the phase
-I stopped being all angsty for a while after not being in classes I couldn't stand
-It is surprising how those things work.
-I still have a lot to do before I can count myself as an adult
-Also, I have kind of partially diagnosed ADHD which really explains some of my shitty as shitfuck organization habits and procrastination AND anxiety AND depression
-...which was also diagnosed last summer but is fairly mild and seems pretty secondary to the other two sort-of diagnoses
-I still feel weird as hell saying that there is something diagnosable in my mind that effects my mental processes after years of being fascinated with what I found to be "interesting" mental illnesses and sort of "othering" people in that way
-and it's not so much the stigma as I just don't often feel like I should be able to label myself because I still kind of feel like there's no reason for the way I've acted and thought at times
-but i mean, that's kind of the point because the reason is fucked up neurotransmitters and shit
-so I mean, I guess i have as much a right as any other person with mental illness to say that I have them and it effects me and whatnot
-And so I now continue to struggle with accepting personal responsibility for my actions
-Because I'm kind of a dick
-I spent a lot of money this year on things I didn't need to
-I keep spending a lot of money very frivolously
-I haven't had an eat my brains out crush on a person in a while
-I've pretty much only passionately liked and loved E that way this year which is a welcome and refreshing surprise
-...but I have HAD feelings and they have occasionally complicated things
-But they aren't currently a major concern
- Technically, E and I did make a lot of friends this year, actually
-They were and are underclassmen from high school
-Many of them are graduating high school this year and will be leaving us behind
-I am sad about that
-I will miss them very much

This is as good as any place to stop, given that it is 2:37 AM and I do need to get up and get ready for things at some point tomorrow before 11 hopefully. So. That's that.

I love you, whoever reads this. Thanks for who you are. 

Relationship freedom is a gift. (swearing, frustration, reflection, etc.)

So I was reading this: http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2011/01/how-teachings-of-emotional-purity-and.html

and when I posted it on my Facebook, I made a little note thanking my parents for giving me freedom as a young girl, to date. It was more that I sort of just did it even though they probably would have preferred me not to, but when it happened, they didn't try to restrict me terribly. They allowed me to make my own decisions. My mom and I had heart-to-hearts about dating dudes. Hell, I've recorded most of that history right here, in this old piece of shit--I mean, this blog is OLD. Jesus. So if anyone wanted to know what dating was like for me when I was 13, it's right here.

It sucked, it was probably a bad idea, but it was very important for me to do. I regret how I treated some people in my pursuits of romantic relationships, but I do not regret having been in them. I learned so much about myself and about others through those relationships. My relationship history did prove a lot of my fears true, but when I think about it, I may have feared certain things about myself because of purity culture. I liked guys. I liked guys a lot and often and when I liked them, I pursued them. I was not supposed to that.

When I fell for a guy, and once I heard "If you couldn't see yourself marrying him, he's not worth your time!" I felt serious pressure to evaluate the guys I wanted to date in this way.

At 13-years-old.

I was fucking thirteen.

And thinking about marrying my boyfriend.

I wasn't the only one thinking like this.

And the other kids thinking this way were probably not just influenced by the ideas of courtship and purity. Any overly idealistic kid may have let this cross their mind, however, that was likely why it came up to me. I was heartbroken when that boyfriend of mine broke up with me, because I thought he was "the one". A cousin of mine had told me of her friends who had began dating in middle school and married and I thought we could do this. I was also reading the Twilight series obsessively at the time, so that also fucked with my brain too (that deserves an entire post of its own but I don't think I'm going to revisit that particular life embarrassment yet). HOWEVER. These things conveniently made our relationship seem to fit the potential mold of "lifelong" relationships thus far.

There were other issues too, but. I thought that was an okay thing. I thought that, if he would just get a little cozier with Jesus, and if I kept on praying and if he found time to talk to me, we could make it last all the way into our adulthood. The problem with this relationship is that we scarcely communicated regardless.

And then there was the issues of my electronic infidelity. With another guy from my school, who had been my best friend, who I had developed a crush on and dated and then subsequently half-broke-up with after a conversation with my dad over the three different kinds of love (agape, the platonic thing, eros, etc.). So that was the one time my parents tried to fill me with the ideals (outside of our church) of saving your emotional/romantic energy for "later"--but they encouraged me to keep being friends with guys. Be friends. They didn't tell me (all the time) that guys were just after "one thing" or whatnot, though conversations in the future did mention this ("because I was a teenage guy", hell yeah, you were, Dad. hahaaaaaa. You'd have to know him as well as I do to know how much of a "teenage guy" he was), but the primary idea, was be friends with dudes. Try to know them as people. Expend romantic energy later when it was healthier and you were more developed to do so.

MY PARENTS ACTUALLY GAVE ME GOOD ADVICE!

But I was a dumbass kid so I didn't listen but they didn't try to stop me when it happened! They just tried to guide me. They didn't force me to give any details of my life, but they were there when I approached them and asked them for their help. I knew they had ideals for my life. But they didn't impose anything on me.

I know my dad was sad that I didn't wear the fancy ring he bought after watching the film "Courageous", but our world hadn't worked that way since I'd begun dating.

My last two (including my current) relationships, the guys met my parents. They had conversations with them and became familiar with my family and I became familiar with theirs. My parents like both of these guys. But we started dating before I could "take them home" for approval--one of them lived in Canada, so that would have been impossible, as well!

My current relationship is so wonderful and so full of future possibilities, and now, being 18, going into college, I'm not really thinking of getting married soon but I want to have a lasting relationship with him. I want this to continue. We have the most incredible connection, this amazing understanding of each other and patience and love and acceptance and all of these wonderful things and we connect in every single way that matters--save for one thing that I can also discuss in another post (it's associated with the church and marriage ideas, and it's not fun and I may actually write that one up) that I personally don't have any issue with.

It took me a while to approach this relationship healthily. We had nearly four months of an anxiety-fueling death-trap thing relationship before we took a two-week break and made it work from there. This was a hard year for both of us and we dealt with many similar (and vastly different) things, but we were there for each other, holding each other's hands as we grew and grew. And he's helped me (i.e. helped me accept) grow[ing] up so much. Without him, I'd be all over the place and I probably wouldn't accept myself as much as I do now. It's not that he gave me that ability, but the way he makes me a better person, a more self-assured person, is very significant, and I'm okay with that being a part of our relationship; it doesn't make either of us less autonomous as individuals. Regardless.

the point here is, dating has been a mess for me, but it's been an important mess, and God, if I'd repressed myself more than I had back in middle school (because I definitely did repress myself to an extent), I'd be so fucked now.

So that's the story.

Maybe one day I'll write something more to-the-point about this, but I think this is a decent start.

Years in the Life: December 15th

Years in the Life: December 15th: Dear The Media: Associating Autism, Asperger's, and other mental health conditions with violence is so extremely detrimental to so many peo...

The First Existential First World Problem Filled Crisis of This Schoolyear: a vent poem of epic failure

a free job at 

recognizable golden arches, 

free food every shift

25% off otherwise,

stomach growing, thighs

thickening,

arms hardening and 

wrists hurting

carrying fry baskets

with two hands. 

eating out of boredom

staying up until 

three in the morning,

writing about people

never existing, 

voices audible but saying little

beyond laughter and 

crude joking 

nothing nothing nothing nothing 

failing tests in the middle of

second semester

of junior year

return to college

miss a prerequisite and 

fall short of 

the beginning of a nursing degree,

leave the textbooks in your backpack, 

sketch the image of the characters, 

half-hearted reading in the morning, 

sleep in during study time. 

a day before

attend the job for brief hours

of understaffed stress

of empathy sucked away 

change the bathroom garbages 

with the bags around the neck 

pull it jokingly a minute 

and later possibly conclude that

morbid humor

alone

isn't humor 

stuffing selves some more

spending sixty dollars 

on coffee, ice cream, fast and slow food

weekly

instead of utilizing

a well-stocked home. 

blowing gas money on 

days out with friends

and the constant constant constant

humor humor humor

nothing nothing nothing

writing things that may produce wonder

or nothing at all. 

ask 

everything 

everyone

tell all

use "I" 

take blame 

consume guilt, 

what else could one 

possibly need? 

Finally again I am here again.

Obligatory apology for not posting in a long time, my readers. I do still love you, I still love God, I still love others, and myself to some extent, but there are a lot of things that should and do shake me up today. Well, mostly myself. And the idiocy I am capable of. In order to make this acknowledgment of failure easier, I will become a character in a story and there will be others. I might use my old names from the beginning of this blog to do it.

Ever-so-cavalier, Alyce opened her online chatting device and wrote to her friend that she needed to break up with her fake high school boyfriend, referring to Scott Pilgrim, to which her friend online gave her a sincere "awww". But it was an unfamiliar feeling, the satisfaction with only friendships. The disturbing emotional possession of her female friends was not unfamiliar, but the method by which she communicated with them had. The lack of real, deep, consuming attraction to males in the past several months was almost shocking. Small bits of attraction were not enough to sustain a romantic relationship, she knew, not even one that was decidedly part platonic. Yet into this, she had entered, willingly, just as decisively. In her car, in his driveway, gripping the steering wheel with the parking lights on, telling just how confusing the ambiguity she had initiated was for her. How she'd rather they  "date" than not-date, just-be-friends. But when that relationship entered the lower plane of ambiguity, when she agreed to cheesily, jokingly, change her status on Facebook with the young man beside her, she knew. She'd known the whole time. She still didn't know what she wanted. She knew his hurt was sealed with her wishy-washy heart of stone.

Perhaps she wasn't as content as she said. Perhaps the poor boy was right when he accused her of hiding behind humor, which was something common to her and those she knew. There was little to be done in the area of denial, of self-deception. But what exactly was wrong with her? She thought of her half-hearted prayers since the conclusion of the youth group trip high in July. She thought of the wonder and aw and sacrifice she'd been willing to make after that time--the depth of her relationship with her Creator, Savior, Heavenly Father, finally restored. She had grown, she'd thought so enthusiastically just the week before. Because she'd been so ambivalent with Jesus in the months before that trip.

And yet she still intentionally hurt others. But perhaps that was just that sinful, utterly fallible self she was--it was part of her humanity. But no one else should have been hurt because of her. There were only two ways to go about such a situation--acknowledge her responsibility, her mistakes, her half-truths, with humility and full honesty. Then face the consequences. Or, she could go along with her deception and string it further, make it grow like an internet myth from the scummy /b/ board of 4chan. If there was anything she was good at, it was digging graves. Especially her own and others.

There was always the right thing, and it was displayed right in front of her eyes. Her massive record of making the wrong choice was displayed in the eyes of her mind. It would do well, to begin to make the right decision. Sometime she had to.

---
So I realize there are more important things in life. That I am fundamentally self-centered, and I either overthink or think too little when I do anything of significance. Like last night, when I chilled myself over my mom's inquiry of my search for a new nursing-related course to replace the Ethics course I discovered I was unqualified to take yesterday at school. When I chewed her out, when I saw that part of myself that had been eliminated almost entirely after my youth group's trip to an amazing, Holy Spirit-moving conference in New Orleans. Regression sucks. Poor decisions suck. I'm still full of arrogance and air and selfishness. I wish I could make my decisions purely utilitarian as my ethics book described--for the most good for the most people. But I pick things in the moment, what makes me feel good now, only to regret those things later. And God (literally) knows what that comes down to in the long run. I hate learning lessons and coming of age and having to be responsible--I really don't hate those things, they're good for me, but it's uncomfortable, it's guilt-inducing, it's apology-slathering, it's difficult. But dear Lord, if I don't learn now, where the hell am I going to be ten years from now? Note how I've written a lot of sentences starting with "I". I was trying not to do that for the longest time, to make conversations and relationships about other people--about us, not me. Creating meaning, significance, kindness, mutual interest and respect. Instead of a one-sided lengthy rant from my end being partially responded to on the other side. I've been terrifically horrible at that recently as well.

Is this a laundry list of ridiculousness? Some sort of twisted self-pitying, pathetic little piece of awful I've written now? Probably. It's still honest, this is still my blog, but I'd probably look better if I would just write of my ire about terribly unjust circumstances in the real world and not the little ball of stupid I roll around in everyday. I'll try to make one of those good posts next time. Anyway, I hope there's something anyone can get out of this mess. God bless, everyone. He loves you. Perfectly. I can't, but I will try to show His love somehow, when I'm not being this. 

The Happenings Of My Mind: So earlier, I was watching some national news repo...

The Happenings Of My Mind: So earlier, I was watching some national news repo...: So earlier, I was watching some national news report today. They, of course, had a bit about the recent CO shooting. The whole bit with Holm...

(from my friend Lizzie's blog.)

My friend is in the hospital...

Unimportant things occurred today as much as significant events. Then I read a friend's mother's Facebook status saying that this friend was in the hospital and "not doing good".

I haven't really spoken to this friend in a long time; far too long. We've never had anything against one another, nothing lasting anyway, but it had just been so utterly long. And I read this, in the midst of reading less important things, and I was stricken.

I think I'm recommitting myself to Christ now. I didn't last night at the concert, because I felt so certain of God and his presence, but I know how I've been living and the ways I haven't been acknowledging him and how far behind in spiritual maturity I have become. I commit myself back to Christ; He has my entire life. This life has never been for me.

And so I choose to love Him with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength--and love my neighbor as myself.

I don't know how this friend is doing. Her mother has not yet updated. But I admit, the moment I read it, I was terrified. I was full of questions and a million thoughts, trying to figure out everything about the situation, but the whole point is, that I don't know what's going to happen to my friend, but nor does her family nor the rest of her friends. All I know is that I must and we must pray. That's all that can be done. I hate not knowing, but that's all I can do. God knows what's going to happen, and I believe He is orchestrating or allowing everything that is going to happen and is happening in her life. I pray and pray and pray that she is alright.

I would appreciate if whoever reads this would also pray for my friend. 

The thing about hearts is that that want to keep beating.

Elizabeth Scott, I certainly wish that paraphrased quote of your novel Living Dead Girl was true. Tonight, I finished one of my last online literature class assignments. Here is an excerpt from it:


"2. Losing your faith may seem logical or illogical, occur subtly or suddenly, simply or complexly. Some see the loss of faith in God or the divine as deadly, or tragic, or condemning, and find the loss of faith in humanity or the world as acceptable. Some see the loss of faith in humanity or the potential or good of humanity or the world as being part of the path to bitterness and the loss of faith in a deity as logical. Others see such in other ways. Losing one’s faith in anything is never just one thing or another. The divine consequences of doing so could be debated forever, and I know what I believe as true, but I think so many times, we lose sight of the many subtleties of such a loss. I recognize how awfully overrun I felt after reading Night the first time, and the days I barely spoke a word when I heard about certain individuals’ deaths even when those individuals were people I did not know. I know I would not do very well without my faith in God, and the salvation I believe I have received, but I also recognize that such faith is not always necessary for an individual’s happiness or sense of peace. Wiesel’s loss of faith seems to make sense. Many who have experienced such unspeakable horrors or even more speakable, but still awful situations, who lose faith, seem to have great reasons why. It seems that when humans commit evil, humans are not always held responsible for that evil. Both in a legal sense, and a philosophical, spiritual sense. Regardless, one has to think back to the introduction of the story, when a solid, seemingly religious/Christian man interviews Elie Wiesel, and the man is at a loss for words, for assurance for this man: so he simply embraces and cries with him. I feel as though that may be one of the most important responses we can have in the face of others’ many great losses.
3. Cruelty comes in many forms. The knowing causing of distress toward others appears almost everywhere one can look. Genocide is one form, huge and glaring, awful and earthshaking. Bullying is another, much more subtle when it first occurs, in hallways and text messages on just a few phones, but equally earthshaking, especially when it leads to the same results as genocide. I would say that this is yet another issue we should never allow again, but I have to wonder if it is possible to never permit cruelty. I’d like it to be, but there is something beneath the surface of every one of us, a capacity to commit acts of cruelty, whether “large” or “small”, and that destroying that nature altogether may be impossible. Perhaps we cannot change natures or the darker depths within, but we can likely take the steps necessary to shift our world. This may sound inconsistent, but I would say, regarding humanity, I believe in our ability and capacity for good just as much as our capacity and ability for cruelty/evil.
4. Antisemitism is absolutely, entirely wrong. Antisemitism and all actions of discrimination, prejudice, or violence against a human being, especially for an inherent characteristic of theirs (race, ethnicity, religion, etc.), is absolutely, entirely wrong. In our region, it seems that other forms of racism/discrimination pervade, but regardless of such, it is simply not right for we as human beings to determine others as less than ourselves. At many times, we should perhaps emphasize our similarities in the diverse community of the world in which we live. We are all human: for better and for worse, for whatever such a title may imply, for whatever we define ourselves by, and whatever “being human” may mean. Each and every one of us is significant; how can we ever consider one as better than another?... 


...I must acknowledge my own human tendencies, and frailties, come clean, and destroy any hypocrisy in me. I often fear for my future and the rightness and wrongness of my own thoughts, sometimes to the point of feeling totally lost in my own life, which seems scarier during those times than any dangerous situation I have ever potentially experienced.

I am a frail and weak creature, but I think that we all are in some ways, as much as we are healthy and strong. Above all, we should take in the world as it is, for all its horror, but understand that hope still exists, and that we should be doing all we can to promote this hope, and give it to those who feel they have lost it." 



Last week, a 13-year-old girl killed herself presumably because of bullying. A few days ago, in the even-closer city, another young man did the same, for presumably the same reasons. A pastor in California died of a brain tumor, leaving behind a huge congregation, a wife, and two young children. Friends and families are in mourning all around me. I thought I'd be at a loss for thought and word, for everything except criticizing God for his passiveness in these matters. At the same time, I'm praying desperately for healing.

Like I wrote just last year about other terrible situations, I say again, it would be easy. But still the same, God has not changed. People, horribly, have not changed. Some have, some haven't; it would be inaccurate to say that all have remained or regressed into worse versions of themselves since the times that have passed. But death is just everywhere. Death and wounding and brokenness and broken hearts and broken people. I'll get out my one stupid indulgence in guilt over not realizing or recognizing or stepping up, but I'll say it now, I don't deserve it. I don't even deserve to agonize over such things because I will have blood on my hands if I don't try my best to support and stand up for those who struggle. I. Will. Have. Blood. All of us who stand by will be just as responsible as the ones who attack others. It makes me recall an Elie Wiesel quote:

"I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented."

My peers are amazing. Just reading some of the things they have said on the discussion board just gives me a little bit of hope in humanity. Even though I didn't reread Night as assigned (yet), I still recall the effect Wiesel's account had on me and see what it has done to others. I have likely never read a wiser, more incredible author's retelling of his own life. I feel as though I need to reread it soon, regardless of what happens. I can never forget the things which we have done to each other as human beings. I need the perspective. The potential each of us has for both unspeakable evil and near-unbelievable good and certain individuals' astonishing strength. We are capable of succumbing to horrific circumstances and capable of surviving horrific circumstances. Amazing.

And as much as it sometimes pains me, I must worship the creator of such beings. I must worship this Creator because He is the Creator and He is Savior and God of Love and Prince of Peace, as much as I feel that we sometimes see contradictions. Just like one of my favorite musical artists of this time says, "In God we trust, even when he seems like the enemy..." (Derek Webb, "In God We Trust").

I realize this post is biased as it captures emotions and struggles through the eyes of I, a mere bystander and observer; as much as my heart is broken for these families and friends of those who currently grieve, I have not yet even gotten the slightest inkling of the pain which they endure. I am praying. I will always be praying. I request that others who read this also pray. And I also pray for our strength and compassion during our lives. That we don't forget everyone's humanity. And God's sovereignty, as hard as it is to maintain such faith. But he still loves. And calls us to love. All my readers, whoever you are, no matter what you believe, don't forget to love: love in the compassionate sense, the patient, kind, non-boastful kind of love. We all must give this love to others. We are not the judges of our peers. We are simply human beings living in a place with other human beings. Reach out. Do not fear, for perfect love casts that out. We are alive and compassion gives hope.

Thank you.

Yet another ramble about reading and writing stories about the more difficult things in life.

For those of you who know me, really know me, or at least, about me, you may have noticed my frequent selection of sad books to read. Or surprising knowledge of a few serious subjects. Or that I happen to write about people who happen to feel quite bad about themselves who have self-destructive tendencies. You might notice that the majority of the little sketches of people I draw aren't usually smiling, or that their eyes are unhappy. Perhaps you noticed this a lot when I was younger.

Ha, I'm quite narcissistic today; there's a high likelihood you never noticed these things. Why should I expect you to pay that much attention to me? I'm not the important one in your life, really. I wish I had been pointing to God more during the time such things consumed my life.

But in all honesty, those things sort of do still consume my life. I once read those sad fiction novels in order to understand peers and future peers who do and would deal with similar things. Never really for myself. I shunned "escapism" that I judged to be found in fantasy novels, embraced the darkness of young adult realistic fiction, embraced the terrible fear and possible reality of YA science fiction. I was wrong about fantasy, I'm sure. Yet when I ran into YA realistic fiction that I felt I could relate to, I put it away. I had always been afraid of facing myself, I suppose. I wanted to help others; I didn't read the books like they would be relevant to my life, only lives that I was  hoping to be a part of.

And now I still read sad books, but some of them feature real people. I follow the lives of people in real life who face real tragedy as they go through it, even (well, more like especially) when I don't personally know them, which could be/likely is somewhat unethical and probably unsettling and the slightest bit wrong. I don't do read real life to gawk. I read real-life stories of life's many difficulties in order to understand people more, as I have using fiction for the longest time. But I like to hear people's voices as they actually are, also. There is credibility in their voices, there is honesty I don't find in the people that I see everyday. I read to learn, to understand. And I suppose, to face my own frailty and mortality before it becomes necessary.

I write, hoping I convey life as it is, even though fiction can never be fully "realistic". And yet, more often than not, my stories are not. There may be something fundamentally wrong with me. I want to glorify God more than ever, and all truth is his truth, all light comes from him, even if the source doesn't seem quite so clear in fiction. So I try to tell the truth with my stories, but I find them riddled with lies. There is so much of me that still doesn't understand. I hope to, one day. 

I never finished that last post and I probably will not.

At the end of the night, essentially, I realized, as I always do now, at the end of a treacherous drive (which for me, is every single one), that God wants me to live right now. That He's holding onto me, and I'm not dead and my friends aren't dead from my driving because he wants us hear, in (relatively) good health, glorifying Him. Living for Him.

---
And that was the end of that night. It was a terrifying night, it was. I learned of the awful, endless, pointless, "freedom" of having a driver's license as an adolescent with a single friend in the car, and how it feels to near-miss every near-critical point when a car or a pole or a curb or a ditch gets just a little too close for comfort.

You know, I could write about driving forever, and all of its "metaphorical resonance" (there is much of this in driving, for me at least), however, I believe I will just write this.

There is so much more to this life than the tiny things I'm doing with it. More than pondering what I should do and whether I should do this or that. I should keep wondering if I'm doing right, but only if it makes me do what is right. And it is about that continuous striving. That continual prayer.

I went to mass tonight with my friend and her boyfriend, and I realized jst how much dedication people have. To God. To each other. It wasn't a huge event or anything. But I just realized, how much authenticity there can be, in the reciting of words each week that never really lose their meaning when said anew every time. When one looks to God and prays silently and aloud and all sorts of ways.

And outside of this, I was with my friend at her boyfriend's house, and I think now, just how much of an impact we as human beings have on one another. No new insight, but, it's still something I think we should think about sometimes. I feel like I negatively impacted quite a few people tonight. And I think about the gratitude I feel after the terrifying experience of driving home everyday.

I'm here for a reason. You're here for a reason. God put us here for a reason.

Sunday school this morning. I just think about how, now, I can see these people in the Bible not just as figures, as images to be painted and gazed upon and analyzed for their immense beauty, but human beings who lived and once existed on this earth and now exist in the further realm, truly with God, and the things they did that were absolutely human and absolutely sinful and how God still forgave them and counted their faith as righteousness.

I cannot really collect my thoughts right now, but I think this sums it up. God bless, good friends. Much love to you all.