Freedoms

I would like to write for a few minutes about the freedoms that I enjoy and employ.

I love* the freedom that having a motorcycle gives me. I enjoy the control it gives me over my speed and direction, as well as the ability to rapidly change both with minimal effort.
I put the risers on my handlebars tonight; they much improve the bike. Love them, and slightly proud of myself for managing it.
I enjoy the air in my face and hair, I enjoy the way I am solely responsible for the way the bike handles beneath me. I cannot begin to describe the depth of the affections I feel towards motorcycles, and riding.

There is another freedom that I love that encompasses the previously listed one.

I love the freedoms that I have bestowed upon me by the nation in which I live. I have the freedom to enjoy the freedom of my motorcycle, and to modify, ride, and go when and where I want to, because I live in what is (Or was) the best country on this earth.

The last freedom, is one that I love, and is one that is optional, and yet I choose to employ it.

I love the freedom that I have, and I am proud of the freedom that I have, that I don't have to park my motorcycle in front of a bar for four or five hours on a payday Friday to try to numb the guilt in the my heart, and the pain in my life.
I am free from the chains and bondages of sin. I have no fear of guilt or pain from sins past, present, or future, because of the hope that I have in my Lord Jesus Christ.

I am free. But I am a slave.

I am a slave of love, A slave by choice.

I have chosen to bind myself to Christ and to be His.

I am a free man by birth, and by second birth.

I am a slave by choice. A slave without chains.

I am a free slave.

*Yes, I am working my way away from using the word "love" to describe things when it is not 100% accurately how I feel about it, but I feel that it applies in these situations.

I figured it out

I'm a nice guy.
That's the source of my problems.

Missing

Where is my heart?
It's missing, but I'm not missing much.
Don't even start,
I don't want to believe in love and such.

I am getting weary from the strain
Please make it go
I don't think that I can stand the pain
Just let it flow.

Broken pieces,
I can never find them all,
Fear increases,
That should teach me not to fall,

...

I don't know the ending yet, should I continue?

Dangerous

When I start thinking/feeling like this.

I'm going to end up doing something out of character that is going to get me in big trouble and that I will probably regret later.

*shrug*

At least I'm prepared for it.

Strangely

Tonight, of all nights. There is a strange quiet in me... In spite of the expected turmoil...

Keep Me In Mind

Apparently I live by this song...................

Blood and Pain

His throat tightened and  convulsed as it rejected the thick, hot fluid running down it. He woke as his stomach churned and he gagged and coughed violently, spewing blood  over himself and his bedclothes, getting a second shower of as his head came forward and gravity took hold.

He stemmed the steady flow from his nose as he tried to cough and clear the blood out of his throat. Half asleep, fighting for what seemed like survival as he struggled to find the white kerchief there by his bed. Finally he finds it and presses it to his nostrils, he crawls out of bed and groggily plops into the chair at his desk.

Twenty minutes pass slowly, the only sound that of slow breathing, and the occasional sniff as he readjusted the thin piece of cloth to better retain the crimson fluid flowing freely from his nostrils. He began to feel lightheaded as stream began to slow, and finally to cease.

He stands slowly. Tossing the newly dyed kerchief aside, he rolls his head around on his neck and bring his arms up as his rolls his shoulders, feeling the tendons move and flex beneath this skin. He pauses as he feels a twinge and adjusts the angle of his stretch so the muscles don't pull against the tension in his back.

Taking a deep breath, he moves slowly to prepare for the day. Just another thing to overcome.


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As I wrote this blog this morning, I couldn't decide if I wanted to include this little footnote, or if I wanted to leave it as just a story. But I have decided to include it now, this way, only those who revisit the blog will read it. :)

As the title says "Blood and Pain" I feel I should expound upon that.
These are two things that I have been accustomed to since I was a small child, and I honestly believe that I have become comfortable with them, and that I shall continue to be acquainted with them for the remainder of my life.

Sober

Heard this song on the radio...interesting...

I am just a worthless liar. I am just an imbecile. I will only complicate you. Trust in me and fall as well. I will find a center in you. I will chew it up and leave, I will work to elevate you just enough to bring you down

Ridiculous

That's what it is.

Why do I say things and then not follow them through?

Fear.

That's why.

Because I am too afraid to risk what I have for a chance to have more.

Diving in

He saw the shattered safety glass flying across his vision from the right before he heard the stomach wrenching sound of crumpling metal and felt the bone jarring impact as the car was sent spinning across the now chaotic four lanes of traffic...

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Working full time? Yup.
Riding Medusa whenever possible? Yup.
Playing Battlefield 3? Yup.
Keeping up with church and teaching? Yup.
Reading two nonfiction books? Yup.
Reading a fiction book? Yup.
Busy enough? Apparently not.
Going back to school full time in addition to work? Yup.
Trying to change jobs at the same time? Yup.
Scared? Yup.
Going to let it stop me? Nope.
Diving in headfirst? Yup.
Here goes!