You are currently browsing the monthly archive for June, 2007.
My thoughts are on;
7“Why does this fellow talk like that? He’s blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?”
8Immediately Jesus knew in his spirit that this was what they were thinking in their hearts, and he said to them, “Why are you thinking these things? 9Which is easier: to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’?
Mark 2:7-9 & Luke 5:21-23
And…
The Trinity
Theophilus of Antioch.
Who said: “It is the attribute of God, of the most high and almighty and of the living God, not only to be everywhere, but also to see and hear all; for he can in no way be contained in a place…. The three days before the luminaries were created are types of the Trinity: God, his Word, and his Wisdom.” (To Autolycus 2:15 [A.D. 181]).
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trinity
To learn more so to jusitfy the right or wrong in my assumptions, thus pleasing the speculators or to go with my ideas and not take everything so seriously?
Or a little of both, learning for the sake of curiosity and love and the idea that what ever I have known in this life can be undone, disproven or unhinged in anyway. It isn’t a bad thing to be wrong, or embarrased, lost or even mentally vacant.
Aslong as love oozes from every oriface, i’ll still be here fighting for someone(s)
Captivating, unveiling the mystery of a woman’s soul.
By John and Stasi Eldredge
Unseen, Unsought, And Uncertain.
I know I am not along in this nagging sense of failing to measure up,a feeling of not being good enough as a woman. Every Woman I’ve ever met feels it - Something deeper than just the sense of failing at what she does. An underlying, gut feeling of failing at who she is. I am not enough, and, I am too much at the same time. Not pretty enough, not thin enough, not kind enough, not gracious enough, not disciplined enough. But too emotional, too needy, too sensitive, too strong, too opinionated, too messy. The result is Shame, the universal compainion of women. It haunts us, nipping at our heels, feeing on our deepest fear that we will end up abandoned and alone. After all, if we were better woman- whatever that means- life wouldn’t be so hard. Right? We wouldn’t have so many struggles; there would be less sorrow in our hearts. Why is it so hard to create meaningful friendships and sustain them? Why do our days seems so unimportant, filled not with romance and adventure but with duties and demands? We feel unseen, even by those who are closest to us. We feel unsought- that no one has the passion or the courage to persue us, to get past our messiness to find the woman deep inside. And we feel uncertain- uncertain what it even means to be a woman; uncertain what it truly means to be feminine; uncertain if we are or ever will be.
Aware of our deep failing, we pour contempt on our own hearts for wanting more. Oh, we long for intimacy and for adventure; we long to be the Beauty of some great story. But the desires set deep in our hearts seem like a luxury, granted only to those women who get there acts together. The message to the rest of us- whether from a driven culture or a driven church- is, try harder.
Can you see me?
Am I still here?
Breathe.
Do I want to stay?
Do I want to leave?
Is there anything left worth fighting for?
Is there anyone left worth fighting for?
Do you still want me?
Do I still want me?
Do you trust me?
Can I still pray?
Do you want to hang with me?
Can you stand to be around me?
Is it too hard, not enough, too much?
Am I beautiful?
Am I worth it?
I want to die.
To let go.
To be still again.
I really want to die.
I also want to be able to show you how I really feel, to feel freedom in the way I want to express myself. I crave to be surrounded by good people, to trust them, to let them know that they are the thing that stops me resotrting to the knife. I want to be able to let them know I’ve been eating hardl anything at all, that I spent over 4 hours last night crying, that the joy they show me is the only thing that makes me want to look for God again. There the only thing that gives me hope. Because, I am empty, I am a shell, I have no personality without them. But they have there own lives, filled with other people, busy with other things. It’s so easy to convince myself that I don’t fit because I’m not whole, I don’t deserve these people because I have nothing to give because I’m the broken one.
I remember how I used to be, the wise one, the one who could help other people, the one so devoted to God that it shone out my nose. I used to be so much more. Now I’m just the sick person who is to scaired to go out and see the world because the things that I’ve been told growing up seem to all point to, the world wont accomodate for you.
I want to get away from home, It is suffoating me, but I’m sick, I can’t get a job because they won’t let one hour pee breaks, I can’t goto uni for the same reason. I have to wait ANOTHER month befor I can see a docter who will say, so and have these tests done and come back in a month. I hate being probed, violeted and tested and having them come back and say they have no idea whats wrong. I’m sick of waiting. Having to live here and feel like I’m drowning. I am drowning. And no one, not even myself wants to save me. My friends can’t save me, only I can do that, but I have no idea how.
I really just want it to end, thats why I want to die.
I know where I’m ment to be going, but where I am living at the moment and how I am living, how can I plan to help other people when I’m the one needing so much help, it just seems rediculose thinking about helping other people when I’m sitting here saying that I want to die, I really really do. I just wanted my friends to know how much I crave to show them that I love them, to let them know I crave to have more chances to hang out with them and enjoy who they are. And maybe, just maybe I might remember who I could be and last another week without contemplating bringing out that stanly knife.
I wish more of my friends would read this… I just want someone to know that I need a hug.
I just wish I knew why I was archiving, what feels like, a goodbye.
Depressed people say strange things, I just wish someone would try to understand…
Chocked down, wishing I knew how
to sing out Dance without caring
about who’s who
Shut up, you failure, you let
down, it’s your fault I know what
I’ve done to deserve this hand…
I walk in my room, open my hand
See these places dark that I
fear to tread The bed is the
boat and the pillow the wheel
That holds all these tears when I
face what’s real Sail me away…
Grab a book, a drink, let’s dream
for awhile And pretend that it
doesn’t hurt, no more, You all
seem to me, so much more, You
seem so much more…
Your eyes were like glass,
reflecting my face Please don’t
look at me, look the other way
You walked in my room, opened
my hand See these places dark
that I fear to tread
Sail me away…
Sail me, sail me away
Sail me, sail me away…
Calling out in shame
How can it stay so long?
How can it stay so long?
Calling out in shame
How can it stay so long?
How can it stay so long?
Dark Places - Selahphonic
Click to enlargeIt used to be april.
Now it’s june.
As far as I’m concerned,
they’re both names for girls.
Time has no relevance,
it is unnatural, twisted, unbalanced,
I’ve heard them say, times have changed,
When really the only thing that has changed is time.
