I should be Catholic. If guilt were electricity, I could power Las Vegas for the next decade.
Wearing my grey Levis 544s, black vest top, orange Junk tee, white and yellow trainer socks.
Eating/Drinking muesli.
Hearing Placebo - Pierrot the Clown
Dreamt about Liverpool Derby Moor. It worked in my head. It was a castle, with a winding staircase. Almost comedy gothic - something of fairytales. It was also possibly one of my most disturbing dreams of all time. There was a woman I know well who tried to hug me and tell me how much she missed me. I took a step back and wanted nothing to do with her, despite in real life I greatly esteem her. I looked pained at her and she asked me to remember she cared as she was dragged off. My heartlessness scared even me, not because I believe I am like that, but because it was obviously in my mind (I can blame only myself for my dreams) and presumably I am capable of such malice. I awoke with a start and paced around my room for a bit. It took me ages to get back to sleep again.
Currently reading Andre Gide - L'Immoraliste, Vladimir Nabokov - Lolita.
Present MSN name But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses at my door.
Talking to no one.
Last text from Bone.
Word of the Day turret
It’s incredibly weird that whenever the through crosses my mind that I shall never write in this blog ever again or that I shall delete it in its entirety, someone messages (very likely the Lesser Spotted Wiggeous) to ask for a new post. Frankly, I didn’t think anyone cared about this anymore. It’s not like I have anything of interest to say. But these are, in a fashion, my memoirs and seeing as I only continue to live and accumulate new memories, more must be written down because if I don’t, they will be forgotten and washed away like footprints in the sand.It’s funny I should mention footprints, because life is getting Godly again.
I started going to Christian Union at school mainly because Ellie has to go and she wanted to be kept company. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d actually enjoy something like that. God’s been pretty absent from my life over the past two or three years for the most part and I haven’t made any real attempts to get Him back. This is for several reasons, such as putting off the moment again and again because it’s worth more than a halfhearted couple of minutes when it’s actually the last thing I want to be doing. Another reason being that I’m not sure where I stand in regards to religion. I don’t know if I’m atheist looking for some deeper meaning, looking for something to believe in, but denying it in my methodical, logical, cynical way to possibly avoid commitment. I don’t know if I’m agnostic. I don’t know if I’m Christian and actually just following the path of doubt to Heaven like every other Christian. CU has really helped me know roughly where I stand (if I don’t think about it for too long). It’s Christians like Crooksy who make the whole thing not seem like a charade, and for the first time, someone, such as she, shows that it’s not an easy thing to deal with; that it’s a constant battle from start to end. I respect her for her honesty and I cannot express exactly how this new influx of ideas and feelings and thoughts is changing me. I can only hope it is for the better and this is not, as I described to her last Wednesday night, just another ‘fix’ that I’m dealing with. The omnipresent and fierce cynic in me says it is. The quiet optimist murmurs something otherwise. I can barely hear it.I believe I can honestly say that at this minute, Jesus is first in my life. For the first time. Ever. Just saying that doesn’t fill me with guilt, but I’m sure it will in time. My most time and mind-consuming thoughts have not been issues for nearly a week. I surprisingly feel at peace, but I pace and prowl at night instead of sleeping because I have nothing to hide behind. I cannot escape to my imagination or fantasies because they’re off limits. In a way, I feel relieved. I don’t feel as lost as I did. I can’t say I’m happier for it, but I do feel… lighter. I spent the past few days in Liverpool with Bone, Sue and Gordon and it has been interesting. I spent some time with Gordon asking him theological questions, not for the hell of it, but because I was interested in the answer. For once, I should have kept to my mildly irritating ignorance, because the answers he gave will fester. I asked him a question that I had not thought was particularly profound but ultimately asks the question about the very idea of God – about how and why and where we lay our belief system. I had asked, of all things, about the flood that caused Noah to build his ark and Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection. It was along the lines of the idea that if God is truly omniscient, then why would He have bothered with the flood? If He knew that He was going to send His one and only Son to die for our sins, then why be surprised and angry at humanity for disappointing Him and destroying the beauty of His creation? Why flood the world to wash it clean of sin if He was only going to do it again (although differently, yes) through the death of Jesus? The answer amounted to two ideas that have divided Christians (on this view), that God is remote and does not intervene, is omniscient and is never surprised by His creation. The opposing view is exactly that. Opposite. That God does not have a PLAN for us and that He can be surprised by us. (I have simplified all of this mainly because I don’t know the technicalities of everything I’m saying, and what I have managed to grasp, I am not explaining very well. Bear with me.)Of course, things brings in the whole question of prayer… and that I cannot have my cake and eat it too. I would like to believe that God knows all and has a plan, simply because it makes Him greater and it makes me feel more secure that if I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going (which amounts to basically all of my waking life as well as some of the sleeping times too), that He does and therefore I have someone looking out for me, whether I feel Him or not. However, if I am to have this view then I cannot believe that God changes situations when we pray, because that means changing plans and rerouting journeys. Gordon used the example of when he was nineteen he had a distinct call from God but was too ignorant to listen. He did not become a Christian until he was into his thirties and now, at the age of forty, he is a Methodist minister. Would things have turned out differently had he heeded the call at nineteen? Would they be the same as now? I’m not explaining this well. It looks like that annoying free-will vs. determinism thingy again (and brings painful memories to the fore of my personal statement, lurking, slavering at the very idea of making me lose sleep over it again) – and seems off topic to the point I was originally illustrating. It really did make sense when he and I were talking about it. It doesn’t now. I shall have to go off after this and have another thinky. I wrote a two page essay about my thoughts on Christianity (Catholism/Judaism/everything else vs Protestantism) and other things and I felt somewhat clear on my view for having written them down.
But despite this sense of clarity that I write about now, I have so much in my head right now that I can barely pause for a second to write it all down.
A while ago I saw a picture on PostSecret and often I find that the pictures sent in are nothing if overly sentimental. Like with adverts for starving children in Africa, I feel nothing. We do just get to a point where we become immune to pain, our own and others’. Or rather, we are so blinded by our own pain that we don’t see others’. Whichever. Despite this, there are ones which break through my immunity. Some make me laugh. Others make me stifle back tears. It rarely happens, I assure you.
There have been two in particular that have haunted me. One, though irrelevant to my circumstances made me stop and stare and I must have sat there for an hour, unmoving, looking at this picture. It was a simple drawing of a little boy and a little girl, both facing each other with pleased smiles on their faces. Each was holding a wrapped gift to the other with a tag coming off the ribbons. The girl’s said, ‘My virginity’ the boy’s said, ‘An STD’. The first-person possessive adjective vs. the indefinite article. One is personal and precious to them; given only the once in a false sense of security that it was right to do so. The other is general, a plague, shows a lack of consideration and will. I believe it is every romantic’s nightmare.
The other picture was simply a statement on a lightly patterned white card:
‘I am the perfect example on what happens when a person finally gives up and settles for a meaningless existence.
What a waste of a life.’
It was another case of sitting and reflecting. I see this statement in my parents, in my friends, in nearly everyone around me. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to waste what I have. There is so much potential out there, and I can’t understand why it can’t be easier to grasp it. I don’t want to settle. This statement chilled me to the bone. It. Terrified. Me.
It was also a kick up the backside to get me to stop… uh… doing what I’m doing.
There's so much more I could be saying right now.
Eating/Drinking muesli.
Hearing Placebo - Pierrot the Clown
Dreamt about Liverpool Derby Moor. It worked in my head. It was a castle, with a winding staircase. Almost comedy gothic - something of fairytales. It was also possibly one of my most disturbing dreams of all time. There was a woman I know well who tried to hug me and tell me how much she missed me. I took a step back and wanted nothing to do with her, despite in real life I greatly esteem her. I looked pained at her and she asked me to remember she cared as she was dragged off. My heartlessness scared even me, not because I believe I am like that, but because it was obviously in my mind (I can blame only myself for my dreams) and presumably I am capable of such malice. I awoke with a start and paced around my room for a bit. It took me ages to get back to sleep again.
Currently reading Andre Gide - L'Immoraliste, Vladimir Nabokov - Lolita.
Present MSN name But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses at my door.
Talking to no one.
Last text from Bone.
Word of the Day turret
It’s incredibly weird that whenever the through crosses my mind that I shall never write in this blog ever again or that I shall delete it in its entirety, someone messages (very likely the Lesser Spotted Wiggeous) to ask for a new post. Frankly, I didn’t think anyone cared about this anymore. It’s not like I have anything of interest to say. But these are, in a fashion, my memoirs and seeing as I only continue to live and accumulate new memories, more must be written down because if I don’t, they will be forgotten and washed away like footprints in the sand.It’s funny I should mention footprints, because life is getting Godly again.
I started going to Christian Union at school mainly because Ellie has to go and she wanted to be kept company. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d actually enjoy something like that. God’s been pretty absent from my life over the past two or three years for the most part and I haven’t made any real attempts to get Him back. This is for several reasons, such as putting off the moment again and again because it’s worth more than a halfhearted couple of minutes when it’s actually the last thing I want to be doing. Another reason being that I’m not sure where I stand in regards to religion. I don’t know if I’m atheist looking for some deeper meaning, looking for something to believe in, but denying it in my methodical, logical, cynical way to possibly avoid commitment. I don’t know if I’m agnostic. I don’t know if I’m Christian and actually just following the path of doubt to Heaven like every other Christian. CU has really helped me know roughly where I stand (if I don’t think about it for too long). It’s Christians like Crooksy who make the whole thing not seem like a charade, and for the first time, someone, such as she, shows that it’s not an easy thing to deal with; that it’s a constant battle from start to end. I respect her for her honesty and I cannot express exactly how this new influx of ideas and feelings and thoughts is changing me. I can only hope it is for the better and this is not, as I described to her last Wednesday night, just another ‘fix’ that I’m dealing with. The omnipresent and fierce cynic in me says it is. The quiet optimist murmurs something otherwise. I can barely hear it.I believe I can honestly say that at this minute, Jesus is first in my life. For the first time. Ever. Just saying that doesn’t fill me with guilt, but I’m sure it will in time. My most time and mind-consuming thoughts have not been issues for nearly a week. I surprisingly feel at peace, but I pace and prowl at night instead of sleeping because I have nothing to hide behind. I cannot escape to my imagination or fantasies because they’re off limits. In a way, I feel relieved. I don’t feel as lost as I did. I can’t say I’m happier for it, but I do feel… lighter. I spent the past few days in Liverpool with Bone, Sue and Gordon and it has been interesting. I spent some time with Gordon asking him theological questions, not for the hell of it, but because I was interested in the answer. For once, I should have kept to my mildly irritating ignorance, because the answers he gave will fester. I asked him a question that I had not thought was particularly profound but ultimately asks the question about the very idea of God – about how and why and where we lay our belief system. I had asked, of all things, about the flood that caused Noah to build his ark and Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection. It was along the lines of the idea that if God is truly omniscient, then why would He have bothered with the flood? If He knew that He was going to send His one and only Son to die for our sins, then why be surprised and angry at humanity for disappointing Him and destroying the beauty of His creation? Why flood the world to wash it clean of sin if He was only going to do it again (although differently, yes) through the death of Jesus? The answer amounted to two ideas that have divided Christians (on this view), that God is remote and does not intervene, is omniscient and is never surprised by His creation. The opposing view is exactly that. Opposite. That God does not have a PLAN for us and that He can be surprised by us. (I have simplified all of this mainly because I don’t know the technicalities of everything I’m saying, and what I have managed to grasp, I am not explaining very well. Bear with me.)Of course, things brings in the whole question of prayer… and that I cannot have my cake and eat it too. I would like to believe that God knows all and has a plan, simply because it makes Him greater and it makes me feel more secure that if I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going (which amounts to basically all of my waking life as well as some of the sleeping times too), that He does and therefore I have someone looking out for me, whether I feel Him or not. However, if I am to have this view then I cannot believe that God changes situations when we pray, because that means changing plans and rerouting journeys. Gordon used the example of when he was nineteen he had a distinct call from God but was too ignorant to listen. He did not become a Christian until he was into his thirties and now, at the age of forty, he is a Methodist minister. Would things have turned out differently had he heeded the call at nineteen? Would they be the same as now? I’m not explaining this well. It looks like that annoying free-will vs. determinism thingy again (and brings painful memories to the fore of my personal statement, lurking, slavering at the very idea of making me lose sleep over it again) – and seems off topic to the point I was originally illustrating. It really did make sense when he and I were talking about it. It doesn’t now. I shall have to go off after this and have another thinky. I wrote a two page essay about my thoughts on Christianity (Catholism/Judaism/everything else vs Protestantism) and other things and I felt somewhat clear on my view for having written them down.
But despite this sense of clarity that I write about now, I have so much in my head right now that I can barely pause for a second to write it all down.
A while ago I saw a picture on PostSecret and often I find that the pictures sent in are nothing if overly sentimental. Like with adverts for starving children in Africa, I feel nothing. We do just get to a point where we become immune to pain, our own and others’. Or rather, we are so blinded by our own pain that we don’t see others’. Whichever. Despite this, there are ones which break through my immunity. Some make me laugh. Others make me stifle back tears. It rarely happens, I assure you.
There have been two in particular that have haunted me. One, though irrelevant to my circumstances made me stop and stare and I must have sat there for an hour, unmoving, looking at this picture. It was a simple drawing of a little boy and a little girl, both facing each other with pleased smiles on their faces. Each was holding a wrapped gift to the other with a tag coming off the ribbons. The girl’s said, ‘My virginity’ the boy’s said, ‘An STD’. The first-person possessive adjective vs. the indefinite article. One is personal and precious to them; given only the once in a false sense of security that it was right to do so. The other is general, a plague, shows a lack of consideration and will. I believe it is every romantic’s nightmare.
The other picture was simply a statement on a lightly patterned white card:
‘I am the perfect example on what happens when a person finally gives up and settles for a meaningless existence.
What a waste of a life.’
It was another case of sitting and reflecting. I see this statement in my parents, in my friends, in nearly everyone around me. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to waste what I have. There is so much potential out there, and I can’t understand why it can’t be easier to grasp it. I don’t want to settle. This statement chilled me to the bone. It. Terrified. Me.
It was also a kick up the backside to get me to stop… uh… doing what I’m doing.
There's so much more I could be saying right now.
posted by ReddPhoenix at 1:09 AM
13 comments
