denial

i am trying to be present. to the good and the bad and the kind of nuance that plays with my emotions. i seem to be a slave to my split second moments and so they are. trying to stay in the game and thick of things is hard to get by unless there is alcohol in the room or energy contagious enough to make me laugh and work up a sweat. Laughing is good medicine for the soul. So true.

in a warm turn of events, I found myself recounting the humour of my desk plastered with post-it notes from a would-be stalker at work. i guess i was the only one who gave attention to somehow acknowledge that her ADHD ways is not a bad thing. i won a goodbye kiss and a thousand notes wishing me a merry christmas on the morning of the eve. like paper crane prayers, it etched a balm of healing onto my soul. strangers who become unlikely angels. so thank you for placing a tear in my eye.

and so i digressed. from the dinners who found their way to rescue this derelict heart to creating a recipe for the turkey stuffing to the slapstick card games that gave us stitches. i found scraps of thoughts posted on a friend’s wall reminding me of goodness, of belonging, to still be found as the good humoured buddy good enough to wear these shoes with comfort. though i still find it hard some days, between distant text messages and worn out lame jokes that still work, it is far fetched for me to believe that good does not change, for i have seen so much change that winter seems like the better drug. but i choose to believe because i love those i invest in. i choose to believe, for somehow in my abandonment, my God does chain them altogether for good, even though i may miss the point most days.

i just want to be present. look beyond my pain and believe i can gain more in love and rest for my soul, a home outside of those traditional walls. what do i look forward to after the parties’ over? i am still unsure. perhaps the mad reality will hit me soon and grow me up out of these toddler boots.

abandoned ship

this day, i don’t know how to go forward, without fear, without all these ominous road kills. i waver between episodes of happiness and suicide notes, between walls of protection and unbridled tension. between believing and throwing it all in. it only takes a spark to trigger all these unrestful ghosts, unfinished business shit.

i don’t know what this is. it still grips me in the dark. i just want to acquaint myself with these elements that bring me closer to a whole circle. hide under the blanket, pretend someone else is there, to tell me these things swimming in my head is all going to be alright, a voice strong enough to anchor my restless spirit.

i watched, parked along the mall, these children wide eyed over a fire engine dressed up in christmas colours. makes me wonder why i am not looking forward just like everyone else. perhaps this season has always been wrought with uncertainty, carried with it pain, abandonment, ridicule and deprivation. i don’t know how to sing a family christmas song, perhaps that is why, carols are the thickest when it comes to smothering me. all these foreign to me, living like a nomad, individual, abandoned, without a last name, without a room to ground, without a voice to hang on the phone for.

i miss home, even though it never actually existed.

what good is there to have all the money in the world but have no one to share it with? perhaps that is why the rich own charities. if i have no charity, i am an empty sound. if only it were this simple.

as you grow older you understand how the dots join from the turn of the century to contribute to a paralytic exhibit. knowledge doesn’t drive away the pain. knowing doesn’t make it any better. that’s why i have been searching, high and low, heaven and till the ends of the earth for a replacement that only the physical can heal.

perhaps i will never find what I am looking for. And for that, I have so many questions to tarry God on. What in the world do You want me to live for?

this obsession

i think too much. but not to belittle the grain and the pain that is underneath the tow bridge. i wish the music would stop. drown out the tears that well up. all this. all this. all this confronting me.

i’d give anything to be desperate, in love and obsessed with jesus.

what does it look like? does it bring me home? does it take the rubber to the road? will it bring me to my knees and be as simple as a love song?

for when these drugs and distractions wear out, I’m left with nothing but shadows and dreams to keep me company. is there no comfort in this personal hell I’m in? why do i sift and strain and struggle like this?

where is my peace past this penance?

still my heart, sweet savior one more time. that it will learn to slow down and draw out the real poison within. and beat healthily again like the beginning of creation. i am sick and i need you more and more. i am at the end of my street, with only a knife in my hand and foreboding troubles surrounding me on end. save me from this destruction. save me from all that is robbing life from underneath. teach me love like you would have it. balance me beyond my ideas of good and meaningless.