So confused

A quiet word from you reaches through everything raging within me and quiets it all.
But after that word you retract again.

I react to you, you reach me when no one and nothing else can.

I'm upset with you, frustrated, hurt. Yet elated when you reach out to me.

I want to have a time to talk over these things with you, but you don't have time for me.

I want to break these barriers that we have constructed.

I want your help. I want your love. I want you to be happy, regardless of all else.

How?

When you ask what's wrong, how do I begin to explain that you are the source of my erratic behavior?

"I changed my mind"

Apparently, with those words, everything changed. Changed a lot.

I want to go back to that moment, and I want to do it differently.

I want to change my mind, and say to you what I will probably now never have the chance to say.

But instead, I'll just join the ranks of the "love lost"

Some might say that I should not just let this pass, that I should go, chase, say, do, etc...

But that won't work, I know you too well. I've tried pursuing you, but you just keep pushing me away.

So I'll drown my pain, in pain.

Don't be surprised if you can't find me, or don't hear from me, I'm leaving you alone.

I'll always love you like no one else could. Is that egotistical? Perhaps. But true.

Recent Memories

These things I did alone tonight, and remembered when I was not alone.
Left a note
Rode
Watched the water
Listened to the night sounds
Saw the stars and satellites
Heard the skunk just down from our spot
Looked at the lights across the water
Sat on the bank, contemplating recent happenings
Wondered what life would bring
Planned the next few things to come
Wished for someone

I slowed down my life tonight, now it just hurts in slow motion.

Groundhog day

In the movie Groundhog Day, Bill Murray's character is inexplicably sentenced to relive one day until he learns his lesson and makes/does things right.
It never says exactly how many tries it took him to get it right.
First he in confused and so just plays along, sarcastic and snidely.
Then he tries all number of things, every morning only to wake to find that he is back in his bed on the morning of the day that keeps repeating.

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I think I have found myself sentenced to something similar. Not repeating a day, but a set of circumstances. I would disagree with myself on this, but after the fifth time, it's a pretty clear pattern.

So rather than resign myself to this punishment, I refuse to allow that set of circumstances to come upon me again.

Unlike Murray's character, I don't have the resilience to maintain my sanity through any more cycles - I would end up a sobbing, incoherent ball. (I'm pretty close to being one now)

I can't let my heart break any more. Sometimes, things get broken too many times to be fixed.

Lame

Here's my bit of lame for today.

I want to be somebody that somebody can't live without.

Too Fore

Another year has come and passed. Until one of my friends text me and told me happy birthday just now, I had forgotten tomorrow was my birthday.
Hmm.
Oh well.
I'll put this last year's reflections on here later.

In Jeopardy

I have long conversations on this subject with a couple of friends.
After all of these.
I know my answers.
I know my reasons.
I know my faults.
I know my mistakes.
I know I am a fool.

Now, it has come down to a couple of things.

1. I have to let go.
2. I have to repair the damage done.
3. I have to learn to be content
4. I have to forgive that man. - I thought at one time that I hated my father for leaving my family, but with time and with God's help, I realized that it was only anger and pain causing that. I have moved past that.
But now.
I feel that this jeopardizes my soul.
I can't find a place of sympathy, love, pity, understanding, empathy, or any other benevolent emotion in my heart where I can place him.
I think that this is the only person that I have ever honestly hated, with a black, ugly, painful hate. I can feel it eating away at me, but I can't put it away...

I am praying, and I need more prayer.
I can't hold this against him.
It has to have been God's plan.

Every fiber of my being weeps with the pain and cries out for a different answer.

Bibles

Funny thing happened to me yesterday.
(rare I know)
I was in Mardel's visiting with Em, and she had a couple of ladies come over to her and ask for her help in finding a Bible for a teenage girl.
So I began to just wander around aimlessly and looked at various books, goofed on my phone, all the while I could hear them pestering Em with questions about Bible translations, and brands and study Bible or not and etc etc etc.
Poor Em was being overwhelmed! Their questions were coming so fast and were so random that she couldn't answer.
Finally. I had to step in.
(Tony-Man to the rescue!)
I began with an answer to the question being forced upon Erica at the time: Why is it called the NIV translation?
Then we moved on to explain the "rubric" if you will, of Bible translations, of how the KJV, the NKJV, the NASB and others were more literal word for word translations, while versions like The Message, NIV, NLT and others are more thought for thought or idea for idea translations.
All the while answering the questions that arose, getting their life history, and being admonished to "use your Theology degree because someone needs to reach the youth!"
Funny thing was, you would have initially thought that it was the 40-something lady that was humouring her 80-something mother... But no... It soon became very clear that the elderly woman was of more sound mind, and was taking care of her daughter.
Fast forward to twenty minutes later of educating the poor people and helping them along the way.

It was interesting.

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Looking forward to the beginning of May.

Not looking forward to certain conversations.

Daft

Yes, I am a fool.
I know that I am.
I do not deny it.
I cannot change it.
Yet as a fool, and daft as I am, I plunge in headfirst.
Why do I do this?
Because it makes me happy that's why. The voices in my head scream out against it, but they are easily silenced.
I shall enjoy what little happiness is available while I can. I know the time will come when this is not something I can indulge in, but that day has been postponed for the time being.

Nonsense speweth forth from my oral orafice. Or fingers. Shut up I know.

having an interesting day.
Not sure I care for it. :(

That single tear

It is not a moment of emotion or of pain. But merely a moment of retrospect and self-examination.
Lying here thinking and reviewing my life to this point. I don't know what to say about myself, how to describe myself for you. If you asked me to, I can give you a patent answer but not an honest description of myself.  It's not something I can honestly manage at this point.

That tear of which I speak, escapes my eye unbidden.Unaccompanied, and bound into it's existence of solitude, it expresses how I feel.

Better

Any life without me is a life better off.

So get me out of your life and things will be better.

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