ALANIS MORISSETTE
"Incomplete"

One day I'll find relief
I'll be arrived
And I'll be friend to my friends who know how to be friends
One day I'll be at peace
I'll be enlightened and I'll be married with children and maybe adopt
One day I will be healed
I will gather my wounds forge the end of tragic comedy

I have been running so sweaty my whole life
Urgent for a finish line
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete

One day my mind will retreat
And I'll know God

One day I'll be secure
Like the women I see on their thirtieth anniversaries

I have been running so sweaty my whole life
Urgent for a finish line
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete

Ever unfolding
Ever expanding
Ever adventurous
And torturous
And never done

One day I will speak freely
I'll be less afraid
And measured outside of my poems and lyrics and art
One day I will be faith-filled
I'll be trusting and spacious authentic and grounded and home

I have been running so sweaty my whole life
Urgent for a finish line
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete

I'm so full of thoughts, I don't know where to start.

I'm not yet twenty, and I'm already burnt out. Sick of American Christianity as a whole; I've witnessed the range from overly zealous to completely stoic, and both ends of the spectrum turn my stomach. I've closed my heart and mind to church in general. And Dad wants to try one we haven't before, tomorrow--er, later this morning.

The fact is, I'm weak, and I've been shattered to bits by the smallest of tragedies. Floored and flattened by having my eyes opened to the truth that some people are wolves in sheep's clothing, in an unfortunate but not entirely surprising way. I was neither molested nor physically or emotionally abused. My problems have really been small in comparison to the problems of others. And that's not self-pity, that's just honesty. If I listed what has broken my heart, I'm sure many readers would laugh. Or maybe even be disgusted. I won't open myself up for that, I'll just tell you that I'm sure you'd most likely have either reaction -- maybe even both.

I became a Christian when I was in kindergarten. I had always been mature, and being raised in a Christian home, it only made sense. I wasn't manipulated into the decision, despite what some probably believe -- I made it on my own. When I was that young, it was really a simple choice, and one I was proud to have made. When I was fifteen, my world exploded, and God became more real to me than He ever had been before. "Spiritual gifts" wasn't just something I heard about in Sunday school; I experienced them firsthand as a result of devotion and zeal to the One who I'd dedicated my life to. But then I turned sixteen. And got screwed over, in a big way. And since then, I've just been another crybaby who got burned by 'the church'. Effortless and useless, wandering and aimless.

But isn't that pathetic? What was my faith based on if it was yanked away, or buried under bitterness and frustration? What does that say about me? What kind of person am I?

Right now, I don't know what I am. I don't know what my life is supposed to look like. Right now it looks like pointless pursuits, random hobbies, and a part-time job that I actually sort of enjoy. I live at home still, which isn't so bad, considering I can't afford to live on my own quite yet. I'm very close with my family, so I don't mind it so much.

But at the heart of it, it's monotonous and lonely. Most people I used to know and care about I pushed away in the past three, almost four, years of wallowing. I used to be good at loving others, and caring about their lives, and making an effort... ehh, not so much anymore.

I don't know what the point of this entry is. I guess I'm tired of blurbish one-liners that cover up how lonely and aimless I really feel. I'm just sort of this gray blur who experiences moments of shallow happiness, and feels that happiness only when issues are not addressed and things that should change (but are not changing) are ignored. I sort of feel like... forget 'going into all the world' when I can't even keep my own head above water long enough to get my feet to stay on solid ground. I'm tired of always protecting myself even when I know I shouldn't. I'm tired of being lazy and selfish and despondent.

But I don't know what to do.

I'm struggling with self-worth, but also with self-image. The whole, being born with a craptastic metabolism and being too lazy to work to change how I look deal. Struggling with society and its double-standards. The hypocrisy of how your inner self is supposed to be most important... but guys are visual creatures, and won't get to know the inside if the outside doesn't appeal to them first.

And of course, the wonderful, glorious issue of romantic love. Feeling guilty because God should be enough, but wanting to fall in love anyway. Desiring to be desired. Knowing that all I'd probably bring to a relationship right now is a bunch of mess that I don't want someone else to have to clean up for me -- and still being unable to let the nagging want to leave me.

I'm just... kind of a mess at this point. Crying for a long time helped a little, but gave me a migraine and really sore eyes.

I am nearly at my 'spent' point.

i'm currently flipping through discarded magazines to cut words and phrases and pictures out of them, ones that catch my eye.

i saw an ad for moisturizer... or some sort of serum, i don't know. and the quote on the page was "Every morning, I fight age with everything I've got."

Why?

Why do we fight something that is supposed to happen? Something that happens naturally?

Yesterday was a very good day.

It involved way too much fun at work - including pausing Flushed Away and turning our heads and bodies ninety degrees to read the phony titles on the DVD shelf; way too much fun around town ("Dani, it's a CIRCLE. Not a square! Go back to kindergarten!"); way too much fun at home - Grease ("I gotta get me some of them pants."), X2 ("*sniff-sniff* I smell Hugh Jackman!" / "How can you say no to a man with claws?" "With what!?" "Claws!" "Oh, that's not what I heard."), and the AI finale that I refused to watch, that my mom got me to watch most of against my will; and way too much fun in general.

Sometimes it's just really good to be alive.

...with a movie

...with photography

...with these shows

...with the little things. colors, smells, sounds. i want to appreciate every day.

i'm actually getting excited for summer.

i was walking to my mother's convertible, feeling the storm-brewing breeze brush my hair against my face, and a bird caught my eye. i'm not sure why i was so enthralled with this particular little flier, but nonetheless, i was - just watching it pump its wings and glide across the sky above me. i know when i do those kind of things, i'm probably looked at like i'm crazy - probably by my own family. but it doesn't matter much to me anymore. we're all-consumed as a society with technology and subsequently ignore all of the tiny beauties around us every day.

i'm not feeling the greatest today [a headcold is making itself known; ugh], which tends to make me quiet, thoughtful, and less-than-sociable. i wanted very, very much to clean my room but got halfway through and found i just didn't have the energy. oh well; at least you can walk without tripping over things now.

i've discovered a love for videography recently, thanks to my dear friends in Kansas City, the initiators of randomchatterers; editing them has become an extremely interesting hobby for me, oddly enough. i guess it's just something else creative i could get my hands on. i've been using a free program but i'm considering buying the full version. windows movie maker is fun and has some neat effects but it's not as... ah, particular as i'd like it to be. anyway, i posted a couple over at amazingade, and they aren't amazing but they are entertaining. if you're bored, they're worth a peek for a laugh. ha.

well, here's a look at my spring so far...

(not sure why i called us that; Klare isn't a plant-controlling supervillian.)

 when i walked in the door, when i got home from work tonight, i heard a familiar song being played in my living room.

my mom and my brother learned Bella's Lullaby, just to surprise me with it.

i came in and watched mom's fingers hit the keys, and my brother's slide along the frets, and was fascinated by the sounds.

i asked her to play it again, so i could lie under the piano and hear it up close.

these are the moments.

God, i won't give up on believing that i'm on the verge of something - that this family is on the verge of something. just because it hurts, i won't give up.

It smells like summer. Fresh-cut lawns, humidity, food being grilled, heat. It's glorious.

Part of me wants my winter back.
Call me a weirdo; it's not like I haven't heard it before.

edit;

i truly hate my life right now.
[& still being an angsty teenager is part of my charm.]