God, forgive me for this.


How can I live like this? In fear of what could grasp me? I can feel their talons clawing at me. Their blood red eyes thirsting for me. Lust indescribable. I fear the howlings of the coldest nights. The aching pain, like rusted knives shredding you, but no marks will be left on your body. It frightens me.
And I know it shouldn't. God is with me. Or so the bible says. So His Word says.
But am I with Him?

God, I know all this questioning is spurred on by the dark. But what do I do?

I feel numb. I feel a supposed contentedness. No real pain. No real sorrow. No gnashing of teeth. Yet... I want more. I miss the music. I miss the dance. I miss the cravings of what could of been and what could still come. It is a life of pain and misgivings, but there was a danger. A wildness. A life.

What is my failings?! Am I forever doomed to repeat my flaws until the gaping earth devours me?

I am at a stale mate in the chess board of good and evil. I only wish I knew which side I play for.

I know many would deem this entry madness. Musings of religious fanatic gone wrong.

But you weren't there...
You didn't hear the unearthly wailing cries...





I couldn't even watch this at first...

But I feel better now that I did.

Maybe I do play for the right side after all.

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I woke up late today.

Although, that's getting less and less common. I'm going to sleep late nearly every night. I'm gaining weight. I'm jobless. Peniless. With no real future and no real plan.

I don't know why but things have recently been getting to me. Things that would have never crossed my mind. Things that would have disgusted me to the core. But I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what road to follow. My heart lies in my past, strewn in a savage mess by those I've left behind. But that was the road I'd follow. That was the me I came to love. Now, there's a harder me. A tougher me. One that has been born of pain and suffering. One that knows how to endure. ...but it's failing. Like the tin woodsman frozen solid by his own flesh, by his own protection. I no longer care. I no longer move. Thus I am trapped within this self that I've created to protect me.
But what do I do? How can I follow a path that was for another me? How can I travel down a road I no longer care about? Why must I find attractive that which used to be my enemy? Like I heard this phrase the other day, and I don't know how to feel about it, mostly because I agreed with it...

"Nothing kills the spirit like poverty."

And I couldn't believe it, but I agreed. For a good solid moment I agreed. And then I caught myself. What?! What am I believing? This doesn't sound like me. But is it true? I crave it so much now. I dream of it at night. I nice home. Friends. Family. No real concern. Why? Is this a ploy to bring me down? Or have I gotten it wrong for so many years?
No! It cannot be! Money cannot be the answer to life's problems!
I will NOT allow myself to believe such rubbish!
...but can I really afford this bohemian view? Now that I'm older. Now that I have a home, a broken car, half a dozen pets, and all these memories, can I really risk it all?

I can I feel it. It's getting closer, now. The breaking point. The snapping point. The point where everything goes horribly awry, yet rights itself by doing so.

I cannot stay like this. Something WILL happen.

It's as though I'm stuck in some indie flick, the kind you can't understand and hardly even has a point. It's incessentily monotonous consistency that devours the span of time and space, as if all things in all of time don't, won't, and never did matter. You know the kind... Well, I must escape. I'm in the wrong story. This is not my life.

Otherwise, I fear I may go insane.





I may simply start by running.
I need to lose this weight. I know to show myself and the wolrd that I am in charge.
I read this about some guy who lost 257 pounds on yahoo earlier. It got to me, too.

It said, and I quote:
"With determination and discipline, Bedford slimmed down, losing 257 pounds in two and a half years. That is slightly more than half his original weight.
As Bedford's wife, Marna, points out, that's the weight of two people, which she said was hard for her to wrap her head around.
Bedford has lost the equivalent of what a refrigerator weighs, or two outdoor grills, or 10 buckets of wood stain or 13 jumbo boxes of laundry detergent."

Gee. Thanks. I get it. I'm fat.

Well... this isn't WHO I am. It's just WHAT I am, and I'll show you.

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