I want to quit.
Three or four days straight with no real writing.
I do not even want to write this stupid blog post.
In quite a number of ways it feel like life is crashing down (papers I am finding impossible to write, subjects too hard to condense, broken phone making it impossible for me to contact work - and NO we don't actually HAVE a house phone; that would be too convenient, physically I feel like crap, bills are mounting, every day it feels like the Chicago tripped that has been planned for a year and a half won't happen...and you know there is most likely a dozen more reasons to be angry/annoyed/depressed/stressed and want to pile all of my earthly possessions in one large mass and burn everything, including EVERY scrap I have ever written.)
Annoyance.
Depression.
Angst.
Confusion.
Being an adult sucks.
As a child you assume that when you turn twenty and graduate from university you will be handed a step-by-step guide on how now to screw up your life and how to be an adult.
I did not get such a thing.
Instead in the Freshmen orientation that began with a speech from the University President about how we would be learning to love God, become better Christians and meet our spouses by the time we graduated.
I did not have my spouse when I walked across the stage.
I either missed the sign up sheet or feel my school owes me thirty grand and a taco.
Tacos are much easier to manage than a relationship.
For those who do not know, writing is hard.
I can only speak for me but it's like how John Lennon talked about writing music "You just cut a vein open and let it bleed"
I let my soul bleed all over my poetry, my essays, my stories and everything else I do.
That (and integrity) is why I agonize over the smallest school assignment because if I'm writing something about Jesus, myself or both of us I am going to make damn sure it is the Truth. No matter how painful it is to face a perfect being and admit to being a screw up...I can't be too proud to accept grace because it's the only reason I am pulling air into my lungs right now.
Mediocre and self assured Christian writers who pat themselves on the back, offer three step formulas and act like we can divide all of humanity into black/white, good/evil, beautiful/ugly stereotypes and tropes are perhaps the ones in my faith I loathe the most (after Pat Robertson and the Contemporary Christian Music Industry.)
I want to be published.
Who doesn't?
But I am a moderate.
I feel it's important to show humanity.
I want attention.
All artists are attention whores who thrive off of being given shiny medals and told we are special.
But this...this writing.
I just want to stop caring.
People will read this.
Someone WILL get it.
They may do something with their soul being stirred.
Or they could just become a burned out recluse like me.
I cannot express the beauty I have seen.
Jesus is the most eloquent and beautiful phrase.
I hate this world.
I love people.
I hate your and mine governments.
They are self serving vermin who only want power.
And the one's who claim to love Jesus do so just for votes.
I am sick of the fear.
I am tired of the self loathing.
I do NOT want to hide the fact I love art and words.
I want to scream out the convictions in my heart.
I don't care if anyone listens.
I've held in the stories and the Hope and it burns in my bones.
Take from this what you will but I'm reaching an impass and things cannot remain the same.
Either I change.
I evolve.
I grow.
Or I die.
It's the way of life and writing.
The show must go on.
The poets must write.
The singer must sing.
People can listen.
Or turn a deaf ear.
As far as I'm concerned it's not my problem.
Bury your heads in the sand.
I have work to do.
I leave you with some words from one of the only Christian bands I respect:
" is it difficult to speak your mind when the world hates the things you have to say?
oh they screech and they bray, there is doubt and dismay, may the sun set on this day
when you dragged all of them effortlessly straight into the dark
while they where there they wondered:
what if the kings that we've put on their thrones aren't really kings at all?
what if they should fall?
and all of the false gods that we're prostrated before have no gracious reign in mind
what if we wake up to find ourselves coiled in their ashes?
we will finally start to wonder what it is that we should leave behind
we'll see the signs and realize there's never been a better time to overthrow the principalities
in all our words, in all our deeds
and storm the gates of hell to show them they will not prevail
if all our hopes and all our dreams fall on deaf ears
then let them see
the gates of hell will not prevail
and you've broken the chains on me
i needed to be vindicated for all of my frustrations
but dragging all my grievances was heavy as damnation
i don't need to feel so right, but I badly want to feel alive
i'm done with a contest of wills
and i'm not afraid to die"
-Showbread, "Two-Headed Monster"
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