Have you ever known better? You knew better. Every bone in your body told you not to, but you ignored it. You wanted it. It loomed before you like the great city of Oz. Only less green. You put your rose-colored glasses on with relish and stepped forward.
Soon, you were clawing at the wall.s of that city which had seemed to promise you everything you'd dreamed of. It was suffocating.
You found yourself walking the streets of the city, in the rain. The darkness seemed to consume you. Everything you had worked for, everything you'd expected, was stripped away from you and here you were: alone, naked, freezing in the acid rain of the very place that held all your dreams.
You couldn't get out; you were in too deep now. Your heart pounded heavily and breathing became harder. Your true desires were for nothing more than food, air, shelter. But your wants- oh, they were so much more.
It wasn't fair! Some people got all the glory, all the luck, all the good fortune. The nice houses, the great cars, the fabulous jobs, the loving spouses. All you ever got was a rent receipt and another student loan bill. You'd done just as much as they had! You'd poured your soul into it! Why did you always get the short end of the stick when other people were so stinking lucky?
You couldn't help feeling deserted in the world, as if no one could understand your yearning for more. There had to be more to life than working yourself to death. You felt like you'd been driven out to the desert and stranded there.
Stranded.
The meaning of the word struck an uncomfortable chord in your heart. So stranded, in fact, that you couldn't even remember the way home.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Dramatis Personae (Part Cinque)
Have you ever been lost? I was lost. Completely and utterly lost. I had a degree, but nothing useful to do with it. I had friends, but didn't feel particularly close to them- not close enough to open up. I had a boyfriend, but that very quickly proved to be a volatile situation.
So while my state of being may have seemed fairly stable, my internal gauge knew otherwise and six months later my life blew into a complete disarray.
I wasn't going to teach. My friends deserted me. My boyfriend callously broke my heart. I felt so lost. Like I had been going in the right direction and then I took the wrong exit off the freeway. Now I was stranded in East LA with no one to ask for directions and an even bigger void in the realm of people who would listen to my plight.
My white knuckles closed around the steering wheel when THAT song came on. I lost it. Leaning forward and resting my head against the wheel, I began to cry. I cried for hours, sitting there, letting it all eke out slowly. I was a failure.
Failure.
It was a word I'd heard but now it had personal meaning. I should just give up now, I thought. No one will love me. I'm never going to amount to anything. Such a failure, in fact, that I couldn't even pick myself up.
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Five parts are done: two more to go and then we get our resolution! Hoorah!
So while my state of being may have seemed fairly stable, my internal gauge knew otherwise and six months later my life blew into a complete disarray.
I wasn't going to teach. My friends deserted me. My boyfriend callously broke my heart. I felt so lost. Like I had been going in the right direction and then I took the wrong exit off the freeway. Now I was stranded in East LA with no one to ask for directions and an even bigger void in the realm of people who would listen to my plight.
My white knuckles closed around the steering wheel when THAT song came on. I lost it. Leaning forward and resting my head against the wheel, I began to cry. I cried for hours, sitting there, letting it all eke out slowly. I was a failure.
Failure.
It was a word I'd heard but now it had personal meaning. I should just give up now, I thought. No one will love me. I'm never going to amount to anything. Such a failure, in fact, that I couldn't even pick myself up.
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Five parts are done: two more to go and then we get our resolution! Hoorah!
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Dramatis Personae (Part Quatro)
Have you ever felt Heaven? They felt Heaven. With every muscle of their being, they felt Heaven. Or at least a cheaper imitation. They'd devoted themselves to it. They'd vowed it, till death separated them.
They'd lied.
They hated each other now. One wouldn't have dinner ready on time, the other wouldn't clean the garage, and so they found cause to argue, to scream, occasionally to slam doors. These things wouldn't have been so significant, but they already hated each other and just needed any reason to show it.
They rarely spoke. They served each other's needs, but no longer cared about each other's happiness. They found no comfort in each other's arms, no intimacy in an embrace. They had lost the one quality which had brought them together: passion. They had no passion anymore. Not for each other, or for anything else. Life had drained them, and so they went their own ways.
It wasn't long before they both found solace and warmth in the arms of someone else. The timing was just right so that they could devote new energy to this newfound endeavor. But when they both woke in the morning, they were overcome with guilt.
Guilt. They knew the meaning of it, but now it was real, and eating away at their hearts. So guilty, in fact, that they couldn't even defend themselves from their own mental accusations.
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I should mention that I'm saving these and compiling them so that at the end I can put them all together in a more fluid form. For now, though, I like this format.
They'd lied.
They hated each other now. One wouldn't have dinner ready on time, the other wouldn't clean the garage, and so they found cause to argue, to scream, occasionally to slam doors. These things wouldn't have been so significant, but they already hated each other and just needed any reason to show it.
They rarely spoke. They served each other's needs, but no longer cared about each other's happiness. They found no comfort in each other's arms, no intimacy in an embrace. They had lost the one quality which had brought them together: passion. They had no passion anymore. Not for each other, or for anything else. Life had drained them, and so they went their own ways.
It wasn't long before they both found solace and warmth in the arms of someone else. The timing was just right so that they could devote new energy to this newfound endeavor. But when they both woke in the morning, they were overcome with guilt.
Guilt. They knew the meaning of it, but now it was real, and eating away at their hearts. So guilty, in fact, that they couldn't even defend themselves from their own mental accusations.
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I should mention that I'm saving these and compiling them so that at the end I can put them all together in a more fluid form. For now, though, I like this format.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Dramatis Personae (Part Drei)
Have you ever had a taste of Hell? It tasted Hell. Every time it lay down for a few moments rest, it tasted Hell. And felt it. And smelled it. The stench of burning, rotting flesh was nauseating. The heat was intolerable. The mournful cries and gut-wrenching screams were enough to drive it insane.
But it was too late for this creature. It had made its choice. It crouched in the shadows, waiting for its next victim to stroll innocently by. Then it would strike.
Its finger traced quiet designs in the sand as it waited. Designs that would strike fear into the hearts of any person that saw them. But for this creature, they were commonplace symbols- signs of identity and realism.
It saw one of the Others across the dark street, waiting for someone as well. The Other's light was blinding, so it looked away. But it had already been scalded. It opened one eye and pointed it back at the Other, glaring at its glorious graceful attire and sneering at its own dark filthy rags, if they could even be called that.
At first, it had felt guilty for its betrayal, part in parcel of the Ultimate Betrayal that had caused a full third of them to be Banished. But over time its heart had coagulated, then hardened, and was now a block of stone in its chest. It felt betrayed. It felt as if it deserved another chance. After all, all these creatures on this measly planet had been given a second chance. Why not those of the Realm? Why couldn't it be forgiven? It had been denied that privilege- nay, that right. Who was this ONE to claim control over everything anyway?
Rage.
It became a true slave to that feeling and at that moment swore on its own being that it would see justice. So full of rage, in fact, that it couldn't even see in front of its own nose.
________________________________________________________
As you may have noticed, I've started a trend here. It has a point; I promise.
But it was too late for this creature. It had made its choice. It crouched in the shadows, waiting for its next victim to stroll innocently by. Then it would strike.
Its finger traced quiet designs in the sand as it waited. Designs that would strike fear into the hearts of any person that saw them. But for this creature, they were commonplace symbols- signs of identity and realism.
It saw one of the Others across the dark street, waiting for someone as well. The Other's light was blinding, so it looked away. But it had already been scalded. It opened one eye and pointed it back at the Other, glaring at its glorious graceful attire and sneering at its own dark filthy rags, if they could even be called that.
At first, it had felt guilty for its betrayal, part in parcel of the Ultimate Betrayal that had caused a full third of them to be Banished. But over time its heart had coagulated, then hardened, and was now a block of stone in its chest. It felt betrayed. It felt as if it deserved another chance. After all, all these creatures on this measly planet had been given a second chance. Why not those of the Realm? Why couldn't it be forgiven? It had been denied that privilege- nay, that right. Who was this ONE to claim control over everything anyway?
Rage.
It became a true slave to that feeling and at that moment swore on its own being that it would see justice. So full of rage, in fact, that it couldn't even see in front of its own nose.
________________________________________________________
As you may have noticed, I've started a trend here. It has a point; I promise.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Dramatis Personae (Part Deux)
Have you ever hated your life? He hated his life. In the garden, the sun beating down on his bare shoulders, he realized that he truly despised himself for where he was. The sweat on his skin reflected the brightness of the day and he sneered at that, too. Nothing seemed bright. He plunged the shovel into the ground again and again, hoping to perhaps transfer some of his rage into energy and let it seep into the ground. His efforts were to no avail.
He stood, cringing at the muscles in his back that had locked in the bent-over position. Leaning on the long handle of his tool, he surveyed the large plot of land. Despite weeks of daily labor, he saw no beauty in the landscape he had laid out.
No beauty. Among the magnolia blossoms and cherry trees, among roses and daisies, among tiny forget-me-nots and exuberant koi, he saw no beauty. It was all dark, all dissipating before his eyes.
Though he tried to tell himself that he had chosen this path, it only served to increase his lividity. He clutched the shovel tightly, nearly losing his balance when the tears crept up to his eyes stealthily. He made an annoyed sound and wiped them away with the back of his hand. But they were insistent and finally his sat on his mound of freshly-piled soil and let them flow.
Like a bird built for flight in a wire cage, he yearned to be set free. Though he made life beautiful for others, there was no joy in it for him.
Sorrow.
He knew the true meaning of it at last. So sorrowful, in fact, that he couldn't even allow himself to mourn.
__________________________________________________________________
Without the hideous, there is no beauty.
Without the dark, there is no light.
Without Sorrow, there is no Joy.
"Although the sorrow may last for the night, HIS Joy comes with the morning!"
Without Suffering, there is no Peace.
----
After all this has past,
I still will remain
After I've cried my last,
There'll be Beauty from Pain.
Though it won't be today,
Someday I'll hope again
And You will bring Beauty from my Pain.
-Superchic[k]
He stood, cringing at the muscles in his back that had locked in the bent-over position. Leaning on the long handle of his tool, he surveyed the large plot of land. Despite weeks of daily labor, he saw no beauty in the landscape he had laid out.
No beauty. Among the magnolia blossoms and cherry trees, among roses and daisies, among tiny forget-me-nots and exuberant koi, he saw no beauty. It was all dark, all dissipating before his eyes.
Though he tried to tell himself that he had chosen this path, it only served to increase his lividity. He clutched the shovel tightly, nearly losing his balance when the tears crept up to his eyes stealthily. He made an annoyed sound and wiped them away with the back of his hand. But they were insistent and finally his sat on his mound of freshly-piled soil and let them flow.
Like a bird built for flight in a wire cage, he yearned to be set free. Though he made life beautiful for others, there was no joy in it for him.
Sorrow.
He knew the true meaning of it at last. So sorrowful, in fact, that he couldn't even allow himself to mourn.
__________________________________________________________________
Without the hideous, there is no beauty.
Without the dark, there is no light.
Without Sorrow, there is no Joy.
"Although the sorrow may last for the night, HIS Joy comes with the morning!"
Without Suffering, there is no Peace.
----
After all this has past,
I still will remain
After I've cried my last,
There'll be Beauty from Pain.
Though it won't be today,
Someday I'll hope again
And You will bring Beauty from my Pain.
-Superchic[k]
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Dramatis Personae
Have you ever sworn at God? She swore at God. In the rain, she stood, tears on her face mirroring the tears from the heavens. The wetness on the ground soaked into the knees of her jeans, but she didn't notice. She clutched at the air in desperation, shouting into the night as if there were someone to hear her. But she didn't really believe that there was.
Her voice drifted out in the darkness, the sound traveling for miles before finally dissipating in thin air.
Thin air. She knew that's all it was. But her heart was heavy and so she cried out nonetheless. If she had been an outsider watching the spectacle, it is likely she would have smirked snidely. Why would one cry out, if one believes there is no one to hear?
Desperation had built roots in her very being. She felt its clutches around her heart. It physically weighed on her; her chest felt like it would collapse under the pressure. The wails of her heart fell on an empty world- there was no one there but she. The rain was beginning to puddle on the ground as she rose and looked around with futility in her eyes. There was no point in looking around; there was nothing to see.
Alone.
The true meaning of the word collided with her for the first time. So alone, in fact, that she couldn't even talk to herself.
____________________________________________________________________
The purpose of life, we all agree, is to bring glory to God. But God does not depend on our lives to receive glory. It's icing on the cake.
We, however, need a personal purpose.
It is the sea that makes the sailor
And the land that shapes the sea
And I do not know yet what I am made of
Or all I may someday be
And it is the wood that makes a carpenter
It's the very tools of his trade
And it is love that makes a lover
And a cross that makes a saint
-Rich Mullins
Her voice drifted out in the darkness, the sound traveling for miles before finally dissipating in thin air.
Thin air. She knew that's all it was. But her heart was heavy and so she cried out nonetheless. If she had been an outsider watching the spectacle, it is likely she would have smirked snidely. Why would one cry out, if one believes there is no one to hear?
Desperation had built roots in her very being. She felt its clutches around her heart. It physically weighed on her; her chest felt like it would collapse under the pressure. The wails of her heart fell on an empty world- there was no one there but she. The rain was beginning to puddle on the ground as she rose and looked around with futility in her eyes. There was no point in looking around; there was nothing to see.
Alone.
The true meaning of the word collided with her for the first time. So alone, in fact, that she couldn't even talk to herself.
____________________________________________________________________
The purpose of life, we all agree, is to bring glory to God. But God does not depend on our lives to receive glory. It's icing on the cake.
We, however, need a personal purpose.
It is the sea that makes the sailor
And the land that shapes the sea
And I do not know yet what I am made of
Or all I may someday be
And it is the wood that makes a carpenter
It's the very tools of his trade
And it is love that makes a lover
And a cross that makes a saint
-Rich Mullins
Ready for the Storm
The waves crash in the tide rolls out
It's an angry sea but there is no doubt
That the lighthouse will keep shining out
To warn a lonely sailor
And the lightning strikes
And the wind cuts cold
Through the sailor's bones, through the sailor's soul
'Til there's nothing left that he can hold
Except a rolling ocean
I am ready for the storm
I'm ready for the storm
Oh give me mercy for my dreams
'Cause every confrontation seems
To tell me what it really means
To be this lonely sailor
And when the sky begins to clear
The sun it melts away my fear
And I shed a silent weary tear
For those who mean to love me
I am ready for the storm
The distance it is no real friend
And time will take its time
And you will find that in the end
It brings you me this lonely sailor
And when You take me by the hand
And You love me, Lord, You love me
And I should have realized
I had no reasons to be frightened
I am ready for the storm
-Rich Mullins
It's an angry sea but there is no doubt
That the lighthouse will keep shining out
To warn a lonely sailor
And the lightning strikes
And the wind cuts cold
Through the sailor's bones, through the sailor's soul
'Til there's nothing left that he can hold
Except a rolling ocean
I am ready for the storm
I'm ready for the storm
Oh give me mercy for my dreams
'Cause every confrontation seems
To tell me what it really means
To be this lonely sailor
And when the sky begins to clear
The sun it melts away my fear
And I shed a silent weary tear
For those who mean to love me
I am ready for the storm
The distance it is no real friend
And time will take its time
And you will find that in the end
It brings you me this lonely sailor
And when You take me by the hand
And You love me, Lord, You love me
And I should have realized
I had no reasons to be frightened
I am ready for the storm
-Rich Mullins
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