Monday, November 14, 2011

Another poem. ("Crumble")

That pressure, pressure,
pressurepressurepresssurepressure....
collapse is imminent.
stack, stack, stack
the bricks.
paste
paste
paste
the Elmer's glue
mortar.
smear it all over
the walls.
they were built years ago,
Collapse is imminent.

built
built
built
on a foundation of sand.

the storm's been brewing
for months.
from this ocean to that.

On the outside,
the building is fine.
Built up strong,
and honest,
true.

take a step inside,
and see...

collapse is imminent.
Definite.
Devastation
if not torn down.
and built back up,
on stone with fresh,
new,
walls.

There's always a lot to say.

Sorry, everyone. I'm flighty and inconsistent, etc. You know me.

I'm just thinking. I've been thinking a lot. Too much, perhaps. On Friday, a rather enjoyable event occurred for me. I believe I may have gone on a date-type-thing. The young man in my Sociology class took me to the movie Tower Heist; fortunately, we both only considered it "okay". Which was awesome. His car was freezing before it warmed up when he drove me home, but he had some similarly "nerdy" likes, such as Avatar: The Last Airbender, and he has an affinity for post-apocalyptic literature which is really cool, in my opinion. So I think I might like him. Perhaps. I'm still figuring it out.

And at the same time, I had two to three disturbing dreams this weekend. And I didn't do my persuasive speech outline, even though the topic is utterly compelling to me and I chose it (educating the public about Mental Illness/Disorder). It was because the outline was late and I wouldn't get the ten points anyway. Motivation dropped. Wrong, yes, but unfortunately the truth.

I'm still struggling with motivation and procrastination, very much with procrastination. I haven't even kept on with NaNoWriMo, which is my favorite part of the writerly year. I wish to place my creativity in such endeavors as my story, Sunlight, but I find myself, rather, wanting to develop a trailer for the book, or storyboards at least in my sketchbook. Draw it rather than write it. Even though the story is not cinematic in the slightest. I always see it as one of those dramas that not many watch, but those who do, love it. It may be narcissistic, but it's the vision I have for the story.

The student ministry at school is failing, kind of. Well, not really. It's working.  Just not the way I saw it going. It's not big. We're not reaching a lot of people. And we couldn't make the big Catalyst Coalition event last Thursday, due to ride issues.

I still don't have my license. And I won't, at least until January or maybe December in California if my mom can arrange that. I don't even know how that's going to work.

And you know what's terrible?

Just the way we never notice what the heck other people are going through... I could write an entire post about that. I might do just that.

Otherwise, this weekend was great. The date-type-thing was pretty fun, and my dearest friends put on a fantastic play, "The Curious Savage". It was awesome.

Anyway, I'd say... I'm at a very uncertain point in my life. I pray all the time. But I usually vent or question, rather than praise. I feel guilty about it, but guilt isn't what should happen... Praise should come naturally, because God is worthy of praise. I know he can take my doubt and my questions, but I'm fearful in the fact that I believe, perhaps this is wrong, I'm not sure, that I should feel more assurance than doubt. And yes, feelings lie. Absolutely, they do. The human heart is a most dishonest thing. I'm having what those of my church might say is a "head-heart" issue. I should read my Bible more. I should listen to praise music and get closer and closer to God... but what I really, really feel, is afraid and like... well, as the past months of youth group have taught me, like a poser. I just don't know, half the time. I don't even know when I'm acting or being true anymore. Half the time, anyway. Which is even more confusing.

And at this point, I just want to go to bed. I don't want to do my homework, which is awful because it needs to be done. And I want to write NaNo, but I just... I want to sleep. I'd rather dream of Damir's awful life circumstances than this strange and common experience of identity confusion. Damir has identity confusion too, especially when all he defined himself by is taken away from him. It hurts to write it sometimes. I seem to draw new things from my own writing every week.

And I know exactly what Sunlight says about me. I don't know if I'd tell you, but if you asked... well... I guess I'm always up to talking about myself.

Those who pray: my friends are in great need of prayer, especially after loss and experiencing their own crises.

Thanks, all. God bless. You are all loved.