getting nowhere

We're so far apart, you and I. It shouldn't have to be that way, but it is and it always has been. We act like we're friends, but on some level we hate each other. Have you noticed? Our conversations never get anywhere. There's pride between us -- it's our only common thread. And for some reason you just won't let go.

It's what I hate most about you. I'd love to get to know you and to share thoughts with you, but it just isn't going to happen when you're too busy worrying about how you look. It isn't going to happen when you don't even see me as a person and you constantly, continually betray my trust.

And it's kind of ironic, because you're feeling the exact same way about me. And, for that matter, about most of the other people that you know. In fact, everyone in the world feels that way about pretty much everyone else. Isn't it so stupid? Why do we even bother living in communities if the enormous majority of the relationships we build are so moronically shallow?

I've had enough of feeling this way. It's as if almost every time I go out, I come home feeling more alone than I did when I left. Time with friends might as well be time with strangers, because that's just about how it feels. It's not that I'd rather be alone -- I'm dying and desperate to have others to share life with me. I mean, why else would I bother subjecting myself to this? I just wish friendships these days were more genuine. Not like the kind that I'd amassed like an army in high school, the kind that got me by when all I cared about was the attention. The needs are different now, and now I just need people who can reciprocate love and understanding.

Maybe there aren't many people who feel the same way. Maybe everyone feels a different need. I don't even care why, I just wish it'd be easier to have friends. I can only think of three of my own, and even that's stretching things. It's unbelievable. Three friends. Out of how many people who signed my yearbooks? Out of how many people who came to my baptism?

To add some blood and gore to an already violently depressing picture: I've had regular conversations with exactly two different and distinct people over MSN in the past several months. Two, out of 197 contacts that I could've potentially been talking to. That's 1%. Even the Bloq Quebecois does better than 1%.

this applies to you. read it.

You know what I love sometimes? Television. Television and mediocre fiction. They both paint such a perfectly flawed picture of the world, and they draw you in because they're either wonderfully impossible or they just seem so realistic that they're really quite interesting. But then you wonder why things never happen in life the way they do in television (and mediocre fiction). And then it hits you: it's the characters! Their attitudes towards each other can be rated on one of those Advanced Dungeons & Dragons scales of good and evil alignment. Actually, no, it's even simpler than that; they generally can be categorized into one of three types -- hatred, attraction, or neutrality (as in they've never met before). For the most part, they'll tell you why individual X feels Y way towards individual Z. If you get lucky you'll find a really good one that'll let you figure it out on your own.

But that's not life. Life is feeling an infinite number of different things about a person. Reality means being jealous or envious of 7 out of 10 people around you, and within those, feeling that way to varying degrees. It means judging people based on their physical appearance, the sound of their voice, the way they talk, the way they dress. It means judging yourself based on much of the same. Life is not as wholesome as any television (or mediocre fiction) would have you believe. Life is about feeling physical attraction towards a vast number of people of the opposite sex and then lying to yourself by insisting that you like their personalities. It's about entirely fabricating or quietly editting stories about your past and your present and your family and (most of all!) your financial status. It's about pretending to be smart, or maybe thinking you really are smart. It's about hiding your spirituality in a closet so that hydrogen-bonding with your "worldly" new friend has a higher rate of success.

You like to dress this way and talk that way and eat these foods and drive those cars. You hate him because he's always right, and you hate her because she's so perfect. Or you hate everyone because they're so flawed and two-faced, and people are in love with them but you see right through the facades. Some days you just want everyone to die because that's how the world would be better off. You wish you could have something of someone else's, you can't even begin to imagine what you'd be able to accomplish with it. You like to think that other people are envious of you, that you have things that other people don't, that other people look up to you -- that you're somehow better than they are.

Don't even try to deny it. I'm talking about you. YOU. If you're reading this, it applies to you. If you're not, guess what? It still applies to you. And if you're still insisting it doesn't (or if you're quickly agreeing before closing the window) then it's more likely than not that more of this applies to you than it does to others.

Welcome to the real world: you're flawed. Very, very flawed. Suck it up and get over it, and maybe next time you'll find a way to do things without having to lie and wear a mask so often.

now...

There isn't a soul in the world that knows who I am. There never can be -- physics seems to make the spiritual encounter of absolute intimacy absolutely impossible. Alone. That's what I am. That's all I am. Alone, forever, because I'll never find my equal and I'll never find my opposite either. Isn't it sad? Isn't it frustrating? I'll never be entirely understood and I'll never be perfectly appreciated. That final barrier between me and the world will never be torn down.

I wish I were as easy to read as a book. I wish everyone could know what I know, that everyone could feel and see what I see. I wish I weren't the only one. I wish there were others. But not just any others. I wish I had a lot of close friends, and that they were all good-looking, because somehow good-looking people seem to make me feel that much better, and they have all the right words to say because they're good-looking, and all I really want to do is talk to them and no one else. Or maybe it's not necessarily that they're good-looking, but that they're popular, which more than likely is a result of the fact that they're good-looking. At any rate, those are the only kinds of people I want to talk to, because they're the only people who can fix me. And sometimes it's satisfying to the point that I don't even need to find an answer, that I don't even need to be fixed, as long as I've talked to good-looking and popular people... isn't it true?

Is there no one else? Maybe I should stop looking, maybe I should be content with where I am and what I'm doing. Maybe I should focus on having normal friends. Maybe I shouldn't focus on friends at all -- am I getting anything out of it? How do I benefit from giving and never recieving? What do I gain from loving without being loved in return? Isn't this just a repetition of family? Or maybe that's the whole point of it.

There isn't much I'm aiming for, that I'm looking forward to. And it's not just the future; the here and now seem a lot bleaker when there's no one else to share it with. I could scream out at the top of my lungs, but why? No one ever hears, and no one ever cares. No one reaches out to answer. I'm nothing but alone.

I think I've given up trying to have people near me. One by one they grow closer, one by one they disappear. Considering how many times I've been through the cycle, it's a wonder that I even remember their names. Did they really ever know anything about me? Or maybe they just stood at the sidelines for a while, out of obligation, out of pity for a forsaken soul. And I can't really blame them -- it was my fault for seeking them out to begin with. I enlisted myself in the care of others and became a thousand peoples' charity cases, when really the mess was my own to deal with.

But I don't want to deal with it alone. Isn't that what other people are for? Isn't that what friendship is for? How is it that there are six billion people in the world and I still feel lonely? And yet here I am, feeling just that, without a soul in the world to know me or understand me.

But you aren't the only one...

aedificatio

Theology for me is starting to progress beyond second-hand, copyrighted interpretations. I've begun a process of tearing down old beliefs and reconstructing them with ethical and biblical foundations that I might not have had in the past. It's not that I've never done this before, but I don't think it's ever been to this extent. It's also something that I thoroughly enjoy doing -- it gives me a sort of absolute security, a sense that I can rely on something entirely because I've witnessed it personally.

And it gives me a chance to think about things that I don't normally get to think about on a Sunday morning, or even on a Thursday and Friday night, for that matter. It lets me explore relevance, what's important to me as opposed to what's supposedly important to the rest of the world. Faith becomes reality, substantial and tangible.

I'll need to start digging a lot deeper into scripture, but I'm encouraged by how much has changed in such a short time. Christ's lordship over me makes a lot more sense now than it did before. I think I'm finally starting to see for myself what it means to grow up.

when time flies

So, to recap on this week:

Monday, we went to see Josh and Char and Clare and Maddie and Izzy. That made us very happy, because Josh and Char and Clare and, to a lesser extent, Maddie and Izzy, are very loving and encouraging and inspiring. Dinner was amazing, because Josh and Char and Clare and, again to a lesser extent, Maddie and Izzy, are amazing cooks! Yay burning garlic. But yeah, it really meant a lot to us that they took the time out to get together with us, and we learned so much from them in that short amount of time. Thanks Char for putting a new vision in my heart, it's one that's really inspired me... I've been thinking about it every day since! And I think it'd really be an amazing experience for all of us.

Tuesday was 1.5 years :) we didn't do much, cause there were still classes and stuff, but we went to Spring Rolls for lunch. We were stuffed by the end of it. It's been a very long time that we've been together, although it does feel like it's been longer. Hope we have lots more .5s to celebrate in the future.

Wednesday! Wednesday we went to go see Les Miserables, which we'd been planning since around the beginning of summer, or whenever tickets went on sale and they started advertising for it. We had dinner at Toshi Sushi and were waited on by real Japanese people! That's because it's one of two restaurants in Toronto that claim to be Japanese and actually are. And then we saw these Japanese businessmen come in. They're so hot. I want to be a Japanese businessman. We ordered some very nice stuff while the couple nearby us struggled to pronounce the Japanese word for string beans. It would've been fine for them to either read the English on the menu or to make their struggle apparent, but they just read it out with their scarringly disfigured pronounciations and acted as if they had it right. Which they were, because the customer is always right.

Les Mis was very good. Jean Valjean took some getting used to... he looked so round in the beginning. I thought Javert was very well done, as were the young Cosette and Eponine. To some extent or another Enjorlas was good too... but he had brownish-blond hair. That kind of didn't work. But the story and the music and everything woven together were still incredible, and the fact that my lack of fondness for some of the performers (me and Val both got stuck on some of the accents, or lack thereof) didn't diminish the overall show in any way is a testament to how good it is. During intermission we got Hagen Daaz :) and then On My Own and Bring Him Home were really, really well done. It was great! And we had really good seats. Although the fact that we could only see the conductor kind of defeated the purpose of calling our section "Orchestra". It's funny, because I'm pretty sure that from the balcony you actually do get a better view of them.

Happy 1.5 years :)

a test of character

"-- and then she like gave me this look, you know? Like that whole 'disapproving' kind of look?"

"Mhmm." I took a bite out of my apple. It was crunchy, but warm.

"So yeah, and then that's when she was all like, 'Blah blah blah, well I just don't think you're ready for it,' and all that crap, and I was just like... what the hell? Why do you care? You know?"

"Yeah."

"Like... she has no right to say anything about me, right? She already has so much of her own crap to deal with and stuff, and then she comes up to me and tells me that I'm not ready for a relationship?"

"Huh, yeah." My ear was itching. I scratched it, but the itch didn't go away.

"And like... ugh, I hate her! What's wrong with her? She can be such a --"

I didn't hear the rest of it. The sound of my chewing drowned her voice out. When I'd finished swallowing it was my turn to talk, but my words felt empty and without direction. I couldn't hear what I was saying. I couldn't even tell if I was talking. And five minutes later, I couldn't remember a word of it.


"Oh, yeah, I do have that one." He laughed to himself.

I tossed a shirt back into the pile. "So, uh... why do you buy this stuff anyways?"

"Well, it's nicer, you know, like the material is softer and stuff, and it lasts longer too." He picked up another one, a black one with a red-stitched horse, letting it unfold. "Oh, this is nice. I think I'll get this one."

"Is there a difference between these ones and the ones over there?"

"Oh..." He sifted through the pile, trying to find another size, and tugged one out from the bottom. "Wait what did you just say? Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"That shirt, compared to the ones over there." I gestured with my hand. "Is there a difference? Cause I mean, those ones are cheaper than these."

"Oh, yeah, well that's cause those ones don't have the logo," he said as he brushed past me and into line for the cashier.

I blinked. "And that's why you got one of these?"

"Oh, no, cause like... these are more expensive right? Which means they're higher quality and stuff, and not that imported junk." He didn't look back at me.

I shook my head and turned around. "I'll be outside."


It was some time before I became aware of the faint chorus of raindrops drumming on the roof above me. It stirred me from thoughts of dreaming and I lay there, perfectly still, captive to the beauty of God's symphony. One at a time, three at a time they fell, without any pattern or predictability, unconstrained by rythmic convention, unhindered by tonality.

I turned my head to look outside. The hazy glow of the streetlights was drowning in the downpour, and only a dim beam managed to find its way through the window. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing my eyes as I did.

And now the pattering of rain became the crackling of a fire, tossing up embers and smoke as it raged, filling the air with the sweet scent of burnt ash. Its warmth coursed through my body, filling me, and I lost myself in that moment as it did -- in that single, perfect moment, alone and yet never closer to company, a single light in the pitch-black of the night, surrounded by silence save for the sound of raindrops falling on the roof above me.

emergence

I'm really starting to think that we're at a major turning point, that we're standing at the brink of something huge right now. The leaves are changing colours, and with them the old patterns of life are falling away. Every day brings to the surface new perspectives, new opinions, new directions and new possibilities. The world isn't what it was, and tomorrow it won't be quite the same as what it is.

Some of us are embracing change as our salvation. We're sick as hell of Sundays, of authority, of limitations and narrow-mindedness. I mean, it doesn't appeal to the rest of the world, after all, and so it certainly shouldn't appeal to us. It's too old-school. It's a past era. We like to talk and sing and dress differently. It doesn't accomodate our needs. And so long as it's so far removed from the cool that we identify ourselves with, it's got to be equally far removed from us. We won't settle until we've got something as funny and witty and charming and good-looking as we are.

Some of us are seizing change as an opportunity -- an opportunity to slip undetected through this otherwise tight-knit net of security. In the midst of uncertainty we're offering ourselves up as beacons to guide the way. We've caught onto the fact that change is happening, and that it's BIG. It's important. And we want that change to be associated with us, now, tomorrow, and twenty years down the road. We're trying to leave a mark on history big enough to satisfy our self-image, or maybe just enough to fulfill the expectations that other people have of us. Who doesn't dream of being revered as a revolutionary, heralding the ultimate cause?

Some of us are turning to change as an easy way out. We've fallen down and struggled so often to get back up on our own two feet; but this new spiritual movement is promising something different, something more than what we're used to. It's bound to be that missing piece, to fill the void, to help us set our lives straight again. And so we wait for change to come to us, or maybe we take the step of faith ourselves. Either way, we've got nothing to look forward to but empty hands -- it's not the way we do things that's the cause of our falling away. No, life isn't as superficial as that. Change only means we're facing the same problems in a different light.

And still some of us are waiting, hoping, watching the clock tick the seconds away. We're waiting for that open door, we're waiting for something more, something that was woven together specifically with us in mind. We're waiting out of necessity, out of desperation, out of a dying and screaming soul, just to know that life still flows in dry veins. To us, it's not the change that matters. It's not about moving away from the past. It's not about leaving a mark on the future. To us, it's about the now, the present, the living, breathing moment when we kneel down and are alive.

It's coming. It's here. Are we ready?

coming toward...

Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy...

Today is the day I've lived before; today is another link in a neverending chain of failures. Every wasted breath adds another chapter to the divine comedy of my pathetic life: with every sunrise a new conviction, with every sunset, penitence and a broken heart. Do I live? Do I die? Is my iron-willed march heavenbound, or am I charging blindly through Hell's gates? Maybe it's neither. Maybe I'm stuck at a standstill, unable and unwilling to make up my mind and choose one road or the other. Maybe I'm afraid that what I choose will be the wrong way. Maybe I'm content with where I am. Maybe I don't have to choose. Maybe I don't want to choose. Maybe...

How long can I keep myself hidden away on this island, feigning captivity at Calypso's hands? How long before this superficial happiness wears its thick skin out? I want life, at any cost. What I have now -- this is only existence, only survival, scavenging carcasses with nothing but self-preservation in mind. I want life. Is it really that much to ask?

I don't want forgiveness. I don't want to live forever. I don't care if I die. I just want my dignity. I just want my righteousness. I want to be purified, I want to be clean, and I want just one moment with you, kneeling before you, in the presence of holiness, and I want you to look at me and to be proud and to be happy and to love me. That's all, nothing more. I wish I could just opt out on eternity in exchange for that.

I've been away too long. Drive me back on course. Let me set foot on familiar shores again. And wait there for me, for the day when I return. It won't be long now.

don't give up now...

There's darkness in my skin, again. Here I am, here as always, never failing to fail. One by one the lights are turning out; bit by bit, it's all fading away. I can't hide any longer. The wall of a facade that I've been ducking behind all this time is crumbling to ruin around me. Do I start over fresh? I wish it were that simple. I wish it were just a matter of hitting control-z again. "Unlimited undos... I wish I had that in life." I'd love to start again, to go back to innocence and never leave. I wish I'd never seen any of this. I promise that if you let me come back, I'll never leave. Never.

... but I will. I always do. I always will.

I'm burying my face in my hands. Tears are seeping between my fingers. I can't hide any longer.

Don't give up now...

What? There's nothing wrong with me. Can't I cry? Can't I hurt? Can't I hope? I'm just as human, and I'm just as broken. I'd hoped to God that the emptiness would go away, and instead it's turned around and swallowed me whole.

A break in the clouds...

There's nothing wrong with me. I'm just hoping for another twist, hoping that there's more to it than just this bitter end. I wish it were enough. I wish love were enough. Maybe it is enough, and I just haven't felt it yet.

We could be found...

Where are you? Where is everyone? Where am I? Oh, God, I wish I could see you. I wish things didn't have to be this way. What I'd give to kneel before you, to physically be near you, to see you for myself. It would change everything.

Don't give up now...

There's nothing wrong with you. There's nothing wrong with any of this. It's just that to physically be near you isn't enough anymore, as if in some way it confines the infinite. No, there's nothing left to do but to believe something bigger now.

We will be found...

There's nothing wrong with love. It's just enough to believe. Just enough...

I'll close my eyes and step off the edge of myself. There's nothing left here -- everyone's dead and everything is meaningless. But there's more. Rescue is coming. Rescue is coming.

moremoremore

Where is everyone? Seems like they've all fallen off to the sides. Somewhere, somehow, they got left behind. Or did they choose to stay? Allured by the Sirens' songs, did they forget entirely about going home?

There's a war going on outside, between Mankind and God. And every day seems to bring human greed closer and closer to victory. There was a day and age when things were beautiful, when the air was clean to breathe and souls were won by holiness and salvation. Days like that have long since passed. Now's the time for social status symbols and acceptance by others. No, not quite acceptance; moreso along the lines of adoration. And it makes everyone so competitive, turns brothers against brothers and sisters against sisters, as one continually tries to outdo the other. Suddenly we're dying to have corporate logos and flashy brand names stamped onto our dry-cleaned exteriors. It's all about standing out, about having more, after all. More money, more friends, more smarts, better marks, a happier life. Or maybe even a more troubled life? Anything to be distinguished, to have our freshly polished faces placed high on a pedestal to be worshipped -- worshipped, ironically, by none other than ourselves. It's nothing but eye candy to everyone else, after all. We're the soldiers and the casualties of this hellbound struggle, willing to do anything for that warm fuzzy feeling of being noticed.

Is that really all it's for? A couple pennies and a few seconds of pity from a passerby? Maybe it's become so ingrained in our way of doing things that we don't even think of it that way. But that's basically all there is to it. A fundamental need to be loved... it's why we were created. We're just going about fulfilling the need in the wrong way.

It's not something that can't be changed. I'm not a big believer in deterministic behaviour -- in my mind, that's just an excuse for people whose wills are too weak to accept responsibility. It's just something that takes some growing up to get past. Less of yourself and what you want, more of what matters. More humility. More of other people and valuing their ideas and their characters. More of spiritual experiences that focus on God and not yourself. More of spiritual experiences in general. More of God. Less of us and more of God.