...so I'm reading Anne Lamott's excellent book, _Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith_ and I get to the section where she's talking about the death of her pet dog. Now I know the fact that I only had about three hours sleep in the last 24hrs (not counting the times I caught myself sleeping at work) is partly to blame, but not entirely. Like I said, I'm reading Lamott go on about the day her beloved dog died and...I can't explain it but after a while it's like I can't even read because I'm tearing up so bad.
And then it happens. I close the book and I let it all out. I cry. It's one of those cries from deep inside that you squeeze at like a zit, trying to force all the shit out. What was I crying about?
Everything, I guess. Geeze, this could get long. Let me put it this way. All the things I write about here, they're just a shadow cast by the hulking mass of my loneliness and frustration. This stinking mass. It's like a backpack. It weighs me down but because it's out of sight, I just ignore it, make myself believe that it's weight is normal, nothing to be worried about, nothing to deal with.
But the truth is, it weighs on me everyday. Some days I am strong and I don't mind, I hardly notice it at all. Somedays I'm weaker and my shoulders ache. Then sometimes I just don't have any strength at all. I buckle under and cry because this burden is a muthafucker and I don't deserve it.
Sometimes crying can make you free. Sometimes it's like sucking the venom out of a snakebite. But sometimes, it's just crying and you wipe the tears away and move on. That's the crying spell I had.
Still, it felt good, if only because it reminded me that there is still a soft, warm heart deep down inside. It cowers and hides from the sharp, cruel world outside. It's become accustomed to the fallout shelter and has learned to trade the beauty of the world for the cold comfort of safety.
Anyway, I have to go now. I'd like to cry again so if you know of any good dead dog stories, be sure to run them by me.
Friday, April 29, 2005
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
31. rant update (3 weeks later)
"What's the point?"
That was the big question from my previous blog entry. The answer turned out to be simple and straightforward - as the best answers always are. First off, I have to give credit where credit is due. Steph set my head straight, reducing my self-righteous stance to a spoiled hissy-fit.
Anyway, the point of being good and doing right in a world that doesn't appreciate it is this: this world, this life, this injustice is temporary. As dark as this tunnel is, it ends and on the other side is redemption.
In other words, suffering the injustice of this world is insignificant when placed alongside eternity. Trust God eve if it seems like God is letting you down; do your best to listen for that still small Voice through all the noise and the whitewash; persevere, persist; pray even if all your requests come back doughnuts. Put up with anything/everything because Act 3 is going to make it all worthwhile.
I'm not going to say that this makes it all irie but it does wear down the barb of meaninglessness.
That was the big question from my previous blog entry. The answer turned out to be simple and straightforward - as the best answers always are. First off, I have to give credit where credit is due. Steph set my head straight, reducing my self-righteous stance to a spoiled hissy-fit.
Anyway, the point of being good and doing right in a world that doesn't appreciate it is this: this world, this life, this injustice is temporary. As dark as this tunnel is, it ends and on the other side is redemption.
In other words, suffering the injustice of this world is insignificant when placed alongside eternity. Trust God eve if it seems like God is letting you down; do your best to listen for that still small Voice through all the noise and the whitewash; persevere, persist; pray even if all your requests come back doughnuts. Put up with anything/everything because Act 3 is going to make it all worthwhile.
I'm not going to say that this makes it all irie but it does wear down the barb of meaninglessness.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
30. rant (caution, potty mouth)
What's the point? You try to be a good person, try to live a good life, try not to do harm and what does it all get you? A front row seat to watching those without morals cheat, steal, fuck, and generally get away with shit that you would get nabbed for without fail. It's like in that movie Ferris Bueller's Day Off. I'm like Cameron, watching Ferris get away with it all, only Ferris doesn't invite me along (although he still steals the Ferrari and trashes it in the end).
So what brought this on? Well something small, really, but it points to larger issues. Some fucking low-life asshole stole my brake pads from my bicycle yesterday. It's a small thing but still, it got me thinking - what's the point?
What's the use of trying to be good when girls only seem interested in dating assholes? And don't give me that shit about "your day will come, you're going to find somebody, blah, blah, blah," I'll believe it when my dating calendar is full.
Why stay away from pirated software, why pay for it when people are giving it away for free, when nobody's getting caught, when even fellow Christians think you cruel for not letting them install software you paid for instead of stole, when those same Christians think you're an idiot for not installing software they offer you?
Why let people merge on the freeway when the next dumbshit will just cut your ass off? Why use your turn signals when the guy in the next lane will just speed up to block your ass in? Why wait in the long line of cars waiting to get on the freeway when shitheads in SUVs and noisy, modded rice burners will squeeze their way in at the last minute?
What the fuck? I was raised (mostly by various facist parachurch organizations) to believe that it's better to place others' needs before your own, to think of others before yourself, that it's better to give than to receive. So I tried to live my life that way and all I did was get shat upon, used, taken advantage of, neglected. But I've lived this way for so long now, it's just part of who I am. I couldn't be a selfish bastard even if I wanted to. I suppose I could try but I would either get caught or feel so guilty about it that I'd never be able to enjoy the spoils.
Woe is fucking me. Like the world will care. Nice guys are just grease between the hard steel wheels that keep everything running. This world is an ugly, stupid, shithole. There are pockets and moments of beauty but they are the exception rather than the rule.
For those who know me and read this, don't worry. Days will go by and I'll wonder why and how I felt the way I did when I wrote this. Maybe I'll feel remorse and think about deleting this entry, maybe I'll be brave and let it stand. Rest assured, I'll go back to being my quiet, polite self. I'll tuck all this shit beneath the surface and life will go on. If you call me and ask me about it, I'll probably say that everything is fine now, and I'll probably mean it. It's not everyday that I get to feeling this way and even when I do, it passes quickly enough.
Maybe I'm just allergic to injustice. Getting my brake pads stolen caused this flare up and instead of making my nose run or sneezing, it dredges all this angst from the depths and muddies the mind, loosens this latent frustration and generally ruins my day.
So what brought this on? Well something small, really, but it points to larger issues. Some fucking low-life asshole stole my brake pads from my bicycle yesterday. It's a small thing but still, it got me thinking - what's the point?
What's the use of trying to be good when girls only seem interested in dating assholes? And don't give me that shit about "your day will come, you're going to find somebody, blah, blah, blah," I'll believe it when my dating calendar is full.
Why stay away from pirated software, why pay for it when people are giving it away for free, when nobody's getting caught, when even fellow Christians think you cruel for not letting them install software you paid for instead of stole, when those same Christians think you're an idiot for not installing software they offer you?
Why let people merge on the freeway when the next dumbshit will just cut your ass off? Why use your turn signals when the guy in the next lane will just speed up to block your ass in? Why wait in the long line of cars waiting to get on the freeway when shitheads in SUVs and noisy, modded rice burners will squeeze their way in at the last minute?
What the fuck? I was raised (mostly by various facist parachurch organizations) to believe that it's better to place others' needs before your own, to think of others before yourself, that it's better to give than to receive. So I tried to live my life that way and all I did was get shat upon, used, taken advantage of, neglected. But I've lived this way for so long now, it's just part of who I am. I couldn't be a selfish bastard even if I wanted to. I suppose I could try but I would either get caught or feel so guilty about it that I'd never be able to enjoy the spoils.
Woe is fucking me. Like the world will care. Nice guys are just grease between the hard steel wheels that keep everything running. This world is an ugly, stupid, shithole. There are pockets and moments of beauty but they are the exception rather than the rule.
For those who know me and read this, don't worry. Days will go by and I'll wonder why and how I felt the way I did when I wrote this. Maybe I'll feel remorse and think about deleting this entry, maybe I'll be brave and let it stand. Rest assured, I'll go back to being my quiet, polite self. I'll tuck all this shit beneath the surface and life will go on. If you call me and ask me about it, I'll probably say that everything is fine now, and I'll probably mean it. It's not everyday that I get to feeling this way and even when I do, it passes quickly enough.
Maybe I'm just allergic to injustice. Getting my brake pads stolen caused this flare up and instead of making my nose run or sneezing, it dredges all this angst from the depths and muddies the mind, loosens this latent frustration and generally ruins my day.
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