violence

i am sick of myself, sick of opening and closing the same chapters of my life.  done with the endless questions i love to ask.  over making my thoughts the truth.  through with the emptiness that is the vanity of me.

i want something more, something that is the farthest thing from all of the rote.  this suffering must mean something, anything, full of nothing.  the price i pay is far less, so much less, than the idea of death daily.  step it up, filkins!  take it.  you beg for it, plead for mercy and grace and love and courage and the best he has to offer and nothing less.  so what are you willing to give for it?  where is that stalwart dedication, that piercing gratitude and rushing musher?  where is the strength when it comes to the grime, the shattered fog?  it's so easy

easy

to be christmas at halloween, it's unexpected and not quite right.  

but it is beautiful.  to mush the pristine beauty of a hem in the caked dirtvomit of the street.  of letting go when you want to hold on.  of choosing change, not waiting for it to happen.  the beauty in that, the gorgeousness: of the highest integrity.  let it be said of me, and not just when i am dead.  i am willing to give it all.  to die today, tomorrow, forever.  take my pride father, take the pain i am focused on and show me yours.

love me so thoroughly that i am left without words.    so that i may live love with 

violence

valor 

and the vision of a warrior. 

dreamland

last night i didn't sleep well. i tried reading before i went to bed, thinking that surely i was tired and i would begin to nod off sooner or later. come 1:37am and i am still wide awake, so i turn off the light and lie there in the semi-darkness that is my bedroom mere blocks from i-35 and a shopping center.
it is surprisingly quiet.
except for that pesky (not to mention seemingly invisible) branch squeaking periodically on the window pane behind my head. i start on my back, then turn on my left side. i know it might be somewhat tedious to explain all these slight nuances, but it is necessary for the obvious reasons: i am doing everything i normally do to induce sleep but instead get an unpleasant, atypical response. when i turn on my back again i start to pray. for all the people that come to the forefront of my mind. i empty myself of all thoughts i deem to be bothersome or complicated and therefore "keeper uppers". i turn to my right side, still praying and too hot, but knowing that if i turn my covers down too far my arms will get cold. *sigh*. i drift off, finally success!

only to be taunted of all too real and, once alertness strikes again, all too forgettable: dreams. vivid interactions so present i can hear myself laugh or talk out loud sometimes, in response to the situation going on in dreamland. unbelievable! why will rest evade me? i am tired! i say. i need to put away these dreams of the future, of a hope i long for. they are not mine. not now. to covet them is to hold something captive that i cannot live, not now and perhaps never. i give up the present for a mockery of a future. i love my life now! i say. to attempt to live in my dreams never works out. i never get what i need. i need to rest in the love of my father god, his comfort in the middle of confusion, i need to rest in the plans i trust in when i am awake. i need my dreams to listen to god too.

life always gives me something i am not expecting. i say that about a lot of things. a lot. where do i get these expectations from? honestly, where did i really decide that my life should be X+Y=Z? i think it's time to change some of my alphabet. with the alpha and omega. and take THAT to dreamland. HA!
(i hope this works. and i mean that in the most conventional of ways i.e. more rest, as well as the idea that i will rid my life of expectations that attempt to take over my future. for i only have today, right now. i love you, i love living.)