Friday, October 16, 2009

i can't get no... satisfaction

emptiness.

it's a disease. feeling empty inside is like cancer -- it begins with something little like a strange feeling deep in your gut that you can't explain on a rainy day, or feeling lonely all of a sudden even though you're in a room full of your closest friends. then, like cancer, it grows inside of you until you feel its symptoms weighing down every part of you. you feel lonelier and lonelier and nothing seems to remedy it. no amount of escaping through television or movies, no amount of ice cream scoops or cheese, no, nothing could help you feel better. your life becomes a gaping hole of despair and vacancy and not a single soul on earth will ever understand what you're going through.

life.

one day you get up and you go about your life as usual. the alarm beeps, you think "three more minutes", but the leaf blowers are blowing right outside your window and you can't go back to sleep. you get up, brush your teeth, wash your face, put on your clothes, and go out to face the cruel, patronizing world that you live in. you go through your day, ignoring everything around you while you wallow in your own self-misery and despair. why can't the world cater to my emptiness? there must be more than this... then it hits you across the face like a hairy chimpanzee's hand slapping you silly: there is. there is more to this life than yourself and your failures. there's more than the failures of every selfish person that surrounds you and can't meet your needs. there's a way to be healed from your cancer -- chemotherapy that doesn't make your hair fall out! but there's a catch: your life. in order to live a life that is full, devoid of meaninglessness and teeming with purpose, you need to give up your life. you need to die. die to yourself, so that your Healer will live in and through you.

the price you must pay to live seems inordinate,
but the price paid for you to know life was paid in full... and a hundredfold

into Your hand i commit my spirit

Monday, October 5, 2009

autopilot

Everyday there are moments I'll come to my senses and realize that I don't remember anything that just happened within the past few minutes. Most often this happens when I'm driving somewhere that is familiar to me -- I'll suddenly wake up from a daydream or daze without even having realized that I was not in a daze!

During these moments, I'm on "autopilot mode". I do things as if I'm on autopilot and get places without even thinking about what I've done. It's terrible. Because of autopilot mode, I lose things, leave my phone in places I can't find it, get lost on the road, etc. What's worse is that what usually triggers autopilot mode is that I'm deep in thought about something (lists, things to remember to do, contemplations) and when I snap out of autopilot, I completely forget my train of thought. So I think that I've had conversations with people or told them certain ideas when I actually haven't!

Maybe I'm just crazy. Schizophrenia?