Just Before I Hit the Sack

I've been experiencing word diarrhoea the past few nights - all of which are documented in my trusty little notepad resting beside me as I sleep. Mulling things over during the night and can't sleep? Switch on the torch on the phone and start scribbling away. It's quite a different experience, writing scraggly on the paper, compared to the sophisticated click clack of the keyboard. I'm loving it.

Anyways, something I'd written without thinking...

"Sometimes, giving up is freedom".

Now...think about this.

If giving up = freedom,
is freedom = giving up?

...Food for thought.

Post of Many Words

I realize I can be the most sociable person of the night or the most socially awkward. I can be the liveliest in the day or the deadest of zombies. I can be projecting my voice over all corners of a room or I can be mumbling to supersonic ears. I can be the most confident or the most self-conscious. How one goes about merging two completely inconsistent personalities is beyond me. I fear there really might be some psychological waywardness going on somewhere in the deep crevasse of my soul. Or  mind, I should say.

I see I am in one of those phases again, where I retain the images, the emotions, the thoughts of all things gone wrong, and all of the things that highlight my fears and imperfections - blemishes that I myself put under scrutiny.
I am in one of these phases where I feel endlessly lousy, incompetent at the most trivial of things, unconfident in my speech and outward appearance. It's one of those phases that come accompanied by the surge of hormones us females come to know too well, and them boys learn to anticipate and dread. Maybe it comes as a result of it instead. Either way I am not a fan of going through it. I feel I am just shy of being low, and always, always pensive. I'm too young to feel pensive, thank you very much. I think I lack the life experience (and age) to be pensive, anyway -__- Cue Dumbledore gazing into his thought-retaining thingo. Oh, how apt. It's called a Pensieve...

I guess I feel less chippy than usual because during this time my mind is a war zone. Gone are my blind optimism and boundless positivity. Gone is the simplicity I live by. I become too complicated a person to comprehend. I become a complicated person who hates complications, who has the simplest of thought processes, who ponders upon complicated things. But at least one thing is constant...regardless when or where or what phase of life I'm in, I always and never fail to complicate every seemingly simple thing. Which kinda sucks, come to think of it.

I hope from this I gain some peace.

Dear Mister,

God knows we need more people like you in the world.

Congregation: Amen.

Why?

why is it still this way?

And I look to you
And I wait on you...

Gratitude

Because I'm glad that you are helping me get on my way.

And it's true.

You never know a good thing till it's gone.

For Far Too Long

It seems there is a large discrepancy between this year and the last.
And it seems the root of it is my apparent godlessness.

Godlessness.

What does that even mean?

Apart from the fact that I'd stopped interacting with people from community altogether, and the fact that I'd unintentionally (or perhaps intentionally albeit subconsciously) avoiding the venue like the plague, I'd spent the last few months not even reflecting and contemplating like I used to.

So what is that, then?

Is God just a term to define personal space?
Just a personification of our internal reflections?
A marker for how our being screams out for perfection?

How could "he" create such a difference in my well-being?

I honestly think it's just because we humans are weak.
So weak to the point where we so long to depend on trust; on a trust we can't ever find between ourselves.

Yet therein lies its beauty.

That all these thoughts and reasons point us to stand up against our creator, yet we choose to depend on him and choose to trust
That god is not just a definition or a term or a standard.

I know that I still do believe in his realness; that he is living.
Despite the niggling bits of rationality in my humanness trying to make sense of it all.

So, yes, there really has been a difference.
I feel a gap.
I feel a sense of loss.
A shift.
A burden.
I lack peace of mind.
I miss the ache.

I miss you.
And you are as real to me as the next person.

It's time to get back on the bandwagon, peeps.
I've been straying for far too long.

Embodiment

You are a ball of confusion;
You're confused, you confuse.

....and it seems I've followed suit.