It's 2:26 am on a Sunday. It doesn't get much worse than this. Feeling lonely not because of someone but because of everyone. Because I am existing in this body alone. Because I cannot share space with anyone. We have to attempt to understand each other from a minimum of inches apart. And then we say goodbye, put our clothes on, hang up the phone, drive away, go to sleep. I don't feel lonely when I run, but I can't run always. And I think everyone has a lonely bone in their body that breaks over and over, but we submerge the pain in music and other people and fast cars and kisses and drinks and the Bible and cigarettes and anything that takes our mind away from the pain of a bone that cannot be reset quickly. My bone has broken. I think I'll be fine.
To recognize loneliness is to treat a sickness with medicine. It unmasks the power hidden beneath the uncertainty. I'm sorry if I have teenage angst. I don't know how to handle the possibility of God and all the implications with my overwhelming apathy. I haven't gotten used to the way life decides to get up and leave and I'm running down the driveway screaming because the suitcase of my memories and happiness is in the back seat, riding away. Yes, everyone goes through this. That doesn't make this less painful. I sit alone in my dorm room, wanting to go to bed or heaven or the spring of my freshman year. Life goes, and I have no one and everyone that shares my broken bone.
God, if you are alive and working, I know I don't have it rough. Fuck it, I passed the limit of humility and downplaying my problem. I am lonely. And what do I do about a god who comes and goes, and I am left with a book and people whose beliefs I don't trust, what do I do now? I will not love you out of guilt. I don't know how to love you. Why would you create people that have the capacity to be this lonely? I'm starting to think that I wouldn't believe in you even if you sent an angel or Jesus or some sign. I'm doubting my capacity to believe.
God, every church phrase makes me cringe inside because they are all so cliche. Instead of asking to melt a heart of stone, I'll try this: God, I don't feel anything in regards to you. I have hatred and annoyance with traditions that are associated with you, but I have no idea what you look like. I don't believe that the churches I've been a part of are anywhere close to portraying an honest picture of you. I'm so confused. And I don't have any motivation to go find you. How's that? I don't want to find you because I was told to. Fuck. It's true. And I don't like the image of whatever it is that I was told to find.
It doesn't seem like life gets better than this, or so I'm told. I'm really doubting that life can be abundant, or at least that abundant life is worth its reputation. What were humans made for? What is our purpose? Our own enjoyment? The helping of others? Giving until we have nothing left? Taking until we can no longer take? Neither of these sound satisfying.
All I know is that I never want to be part of Christian culture. I won't be able to stand the next time I hear someone say that we keep our minds pure by not watching "bad" movies, listening to "bad" music, reading "bad" books. Fuck that.
Why do I have all this inner rage? Where does it root? I guess it roots in my parents and their suffocation of my identity with Christianity. Each person must choose, but I wasn't allowed to. So now I'm running away from the thing they think will save me.
I think counseling or therapy would help me. Yeah.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Baby. Baby. Baby. Oh.
Sometimes I take an inventory on the current popular music, and to do this, I had to add one view to Justin Bieber's "Baby" music video on Youtube.
I regret that decision.
First off, I felt embarressed for the guy (kid, kid, he's a kid), because it seems that he's being used by the masses and will one day be rejected with such speed that he won't have any reputation or credibility to rely on. Not that he does anyway. I mean come on-- the lyrics to the chorus are "baby, oh." The general public doesn't demand any higher entertainment than that? And from his other songs that I've heard, I've seen the over use of cliches, as in one after the other. Justin Bieber doesn't know what he's singing. Okay, maybe he had a first love. But his life essentially stopped after he became famous. He will be unable to have a normal adolescence/transition to adulthood, possibly even life. So what is he supposed to sing about if he can't have any experiences other than having people scream with joy when they see him and people wanting to know him for what he can do for them? I feel bad for him because he's a boy. He's not old. He has a pleasant voice, I'll give him that, but its prepubescent. When his rocks drop, his fan base, his record deal, everything will be gone.
Does anyone still listen to NSYNC? Billy Gillman? 98 Degrees? Not a chance, because these bands were erected for an audience whose preferences change rapidly. Not only that, but the audience then labels their previous tastes as childish, annoying, or stupid. I don't understand this. How can you throw your emotional and monetary state at an artist for a solid year, then simply move on to another one? Maybe it has something to do with hating the insecure, childish person you were then, and the music is a direct representation of that time.
All I know is that Justin Bieber is going to crash hard. I hope he doesn't.
I regret that decision.
First off, I felt embarressed for the guy (kid, kid, he's a kid), because it seems that he's being used by the masses and will one day be rejected with such speed that he won't have any reputation or credibility to rely on. Not that he does anyway. I mean come on-- the lyrics to the chorus are "baby, oh." The general public doesn't demand any higher entertainment than that? And from his other songs that I've heard, I've seen the over use of cliches, as in one after the other. Justin Bieber doesn't know what he's singing. Okay, maybe he had a first love. But his life essentially stopped after he became famous. He will be unable to have a normal adolescence/transition to adulthood, possibly even life. So what is he supposed to sing about if he can't have any experiences other than having people scream with joy when they see him and people wanting to know him for what he can do for them? I feel bad for him because he's a boy. He's not old. He has a pleasant voice, I'll give him that, but its prepubescent. When his rocks drop, his fan base, his record deal, everything will be gone.
Does anyone still listen to NSYNC? Billy Gillman? 98 Degrees? Not a chance, because these bands were erected for an audience whose preferences change rapidly. Not only that, but the audience then labels their previous tastes as childish, annoying, or stupid. I don't understand this. How can you throw your emotional and monetary state at an artist for a solid year, then simply move on to another one? Maybe it has something to do with hating the insecure, childish person you were then, and the music is a direct representation of that time.
All I know is that Justin Bieber is going to crash hard. I hope he doesn't.
Friday, October 8, 2010
I Think, Therefore I Am Right
It's embarrassing how college kids think they know things because a thought comes into their heads. "We should help the poor, but we shouldn't give everything, just the stuff we can." What if we were called to give everything? Hm? Oh no, God wouldn't do that, because he gave us stuff and will never make us give it up. "Jesus wasn't violent? Didn't he overturn the tables in the temple?" Does turning tables over in rage qualify someone as a violent person, or just having committed a violent act?
Man. I hate college kids.
Man. I hate college kids.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Truth
Today I began to think about truth, which I guess means I started to think about God, or gods. I tried to define what truth is (a hard task), and I concluded that a truth is something that motives my actions. I act based on what I believe is truth. I tried to make a list, but I stopped after a while after running out of ideas. I started general, then moved to specific.
1. Nicolas Sparks will make women cry.
2. Lemonade is the best drink.
3. Running makes me not feel lonely.
4. To fall asleep, I have to turn on my left side, then roll to my right, then back to the middle.
5. I love my sister.
6. I want to be an individual, or at least my perception of an individual.
7. I get nervous around people who I think are cooler than me.
8. Talking about important, deep topics gives me joy.
9. I will die.
Now, I think numbers 3, 4, 6, and 7 are the ones that dictate my daily actions, mostly subconsciously. I'm not aware that I want to eat alone because I want to be secure in myself. It just feels right. I did realize that I mostly wander aimlessly through the weeks, searching for something to entertain me, something to remind me that I'm wasting time not doing anything significant. However, sometimes I do things that I think are significant, like writing on this blog, making short films, reading. I grasp at expressions of life, but the majority of my time is spent living, but not being alive.
1. Nicolas Sparks will make women cry.
2. Lemonade is the best drink.
3. Running makes me not feel lonely.
4. To fall asleep, I have to turn on my left side, then roll to my right, then back to the middle.
5. I love my sister.
6. I want to be an individual, or at least my perception of an individual.
7. I get nervous around people who I think are cooler than me.
8. Talking about important, deep topics gives me joy.
9. I will die.
Now, I think numbers 3, 4, 6, and 7 are the ones that dictate my daily actions, mostly subconsciously. I'm not aware that I want to eat alone because I want to be secure in myself. It just feels right. I did realize that I mostly wander aimlessly through the weeks, searching for something to entertain me, something to remind me that I'm wasting time not doing anything significant. However, sometimes I do things that I think are significant, like writing on this blog, making short films, reading. I grasp at expressions of life, but the majority of my time is spent living, but not being alive.
Scaffolding 2
Here is my worldview, revisited. Also known as the second part of a paper I have to write for Core class. Enjoy, you curious folk.
The way I view the world is rapidly changing, especially lately, so that it seems like the entire world is changing. However, the only different thing is my understanding of a world that has existed all the while. Now, I know the world itself changes, but several important characteristics have prevailed throughout history (albeit in different variations). There are both positive characteristics like love, community, and hope; and negative ones like poverty, injustice, and hate. With each week that passes, I am more acutely aware of what these characteristics meant to me when I was younger, and what they mean to me now. This is my worldview.
When I was young, life was good. I mean, really good. I was raised in an affluent, white, Christian home, which means that the only persecution I ever experienced growing up was a kid calling me fat in the 4th grade. Although it hurt, I think the pain of racial discrimination, monetary insufficiency, or educational deprivation, had I experienced any of these, would have been much deeper and longer lasting. I went to a private school, the highest form of elite education available, and all my classmates were white. We listened to pop music, wore the same clothes, and lived in the same neighborhoods. My church had an arcade room, ping-pong tables, and a concession stand, all existing for the purpose of outreach, even though I never brought anyone to church because all my friends went there already. All this to say, I grew up with people who I thought were just like me.
Now what does this upbringing do to someone? It makes them see everyone they meet with the perspective that they are the same. So in high school, when I became best friends with a girl who had immigrated to America illegally, I overlooked it. I simply saw her as a girl who goes to my school, so we must have similar upbringings, home lives, and motivations. I look back at this and am horrified at my naiveté. I assumed that everyone was just like me, and therefore, I could not empathize with people, feel their pain, help them through their struggles. Poverty existed in a third world country somewhere; racial and gender discrimination ended in the 60's; and people's problems weren't any different than mine.
Today, I look at the world through different eyes. Back then, I found purpose and satisfaction in other people, so that by being outgoing, funny, and hyper, I could be pervasively happy. It never occurred to me that everyone didn't like uber-excited, superficial, outgoing youngsters. I didn't even recognize my motivation. All I knew is that the people around me liked me when I made them laugh. Today, I eschew that type of behavior for myself. I am not outgoing in most social situations, which in turn makes me look for others like me. I search for the outsiders, the marginalized, the ones who don't fit in. Also, poverty is no longer across national boundaries but down the street, embodied and living. Poverty now has a face, faces. And I can no longer turn the music up louder or watch more television, because the problem is in a place where it cannot be avoided--my heart. I see my purpose as a Christian to help the least of these, a term that Jesus used to refer to the poor, the blind, the needy, the sick. Everything else I do now seems pointless. Why do I play ping-pong when people need help rebuilding their homes? Why do I do homework when someone is crying for a listening ear? Does helping the poor require a four-year education? Why am I spending $30,000 a year when there are people across the street who are having basic needs go unmet?
Essentially, my worldview has changed from content to dissatisfied. I am dissatisfied with the world as it is for the sake of others, not myself. The world is not right, and I have been on the side of those who have made the world not right. Whereas when I was younger, I enjoyed the benefits without considering where they came from; now, I am beginning to see who have wealth and security, who have poverty and need, and that my purpose is to help those who have not. I used to take freely; now, I must give generously.
The way I view the world is rapidly changing, especially lately, so that it seems like the entire world is changing. However, the only different thing is my understanding of a world that has existed all the while. Now, I know the world itself changes, but several important characteristics have prevailed throughout history (albeit in different variations). There are both positive characteristics like love, community, and hope; and negative ones like poverty, injustice, and hate. With each week that passes, I am more acutely aware of what these characteristics meant to me when I was younger, and what they mean to me now. This is my worldview.
When I was young, life was good. I mean, really good. I was raised in an affluent, white, Christian home, which means that the only persecution I ever experienced growing up was a kid calling me fat in the 4th grade. Although it hurt, I think the pain of racial discrimination, monetary insufficiency, or educational deprivation, had I experienced any of these, would have been much deeper and longer lasting. I went to a private school, the highest form of elite education available, and all my classmates were white. We listened to pop music, wore the same clothes, and lived in the same neighborhoods. My church had an arcade room, ping-pong tables, and a concession stand, all existing for the purpose of outreach, even though I never brought anyone to church because all my friends went there already. All this to say, I grew up with people who I thought were just like me.
Now what does this upbringing do to someone? It makes them see everyone they meet with the perspective that they are the same. So in high school, when I became best friends with a girl who had immigrated to America illegally, I overlooked it. I simply saw her as a girl who goes to my school, so we must have similar upbringings, home lives, and motivations. I look back at this and am horrified at my naiveté. I assumed that everyone was just like me, and therefore, I could not empathize with people, feel their pain, help them through their struggles. Poverty existed in a third world country somewhere; racial and gender discrimination ended in the 60's; and people's problems weren't any different than mine.
Today, I look at the world through different eyes. Back then, I found purpose and satisfaction in other people, so that by being outgoing, funny, and hyper, I could be pervasively happy. It never occurred to me that everyone didn't like uber-excited, superficial, outgoing youngsters. I didn't even recognize my motivation. All I knew is that the people around me liked me when I made them laugh. Today, I eschew that type of behavior for myself. I am not outgoing in most social situations, which in turn makes me look for others like me. I search for the outsiders, the marginalized, the ones who don't fit in. Also, poverty is no longer across national boundaries but down the street, embodied and living. Poverty now has a face, faces. And I can no longer turn the music up louder or watch more television, because the problem is in a place where it cannot be avoided--my heart. I see my purpose as a Christian to help the least of these, a term that Jesus used to refer to the poor, the blind, the needy, the sick. Everything else I do now seems pointless. Why do I play ping-pong when people need help rebuilding their homes? Why do I do homework when someone is crying for a listening ear? Does helping the poor require a four-year education? Why am I spending $30,000 a year when there are people across the street who are having basic needs go unmet?
Essentially, my worldview has changed from content to dissatisfied. I am dissatisfied with the world as it is for the sake of others, not myself. The world is not right, and I have been on the side of those who have made the world not right. Whereas when I was younger, I enjoyed the benefits without considering where they came from; now, I am beginning to see who have wealth and security, who have poverty and need, and that my purpose is to help those who have not. I used to take freely; now, I must give generously.
At The Point
The best $10 I ever spent on the iTunes music store is buying the "At The Point" concert album by Matt Nathanson. I can listen to this album over and over and enjoy it more each time. His conversations with the audience are priceless, and his songs are so in tune with intimate human emotions and thoughts that I find satisfaction in his music. His 12 string guitar makes a beautiful noise. How can one person and a guitar evoke so much emotion within me? Along with Adam Duritz and William Fitzsimmons, I want to write Matt Nathanson a letter and tell him that I both enjoy his music and am sorry about all the pain he's gone through in his life.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
I Give...
As much as I abhor the fist pound exchange, I have decided that I will never reject a person's attempt if it is sincere. I can live with myself fist pounding a ethnically confused/socially insecure individual, because I don't want to further their problems.
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