needle and thread

I'm feeling pretty complacent today. It's one of those days when nothing is good enough- the TV is kind of disgusting, facebook and twitter are boring...life in general is just falling short for me today. Today I am tired of it. I wish it were summer so that I could just go outside with a pen and paper, and breathe in the sun and sky.

Oh, choices. Is anybody else as frustrated as I am about choices?

The truth is, making mistakes just turns me off to everything. I can try and bury myself in the songs I'm listening to, but I cannot escape. I'm still here. Making mistakes jars me away from my inner truths. Making the wrong choices cements me here, in the inescapable now that can appear so cruel and real when I've begun to self-destruct. I've learned that life can be a beautiful gift, but I've also learned that life can be a horrible demise of goodness. And the things I worry about just show themselves even more aggressively when I make the wrong choice.

What I would give to have one of those moments again- one of those moments when the world just recedes like the tide, and I can breathe for a few slowed-down minutes. When I can live within the strums and the pauses in the song I'm listening to, and I only can see what is in front of me- the same things that I always see, but they look different, or maybe I look at them differently. It seems I've been having less and less of these beautiful moments. My cynicism is robbing me.

Do you think it's true that destruction cannot see beauty?

I don't know if most average people are so deeply disappointed in themselves to the point of losing faith in themselves and humanity. Every time I stumble I am reminded of how fallible I am, how easily misled I am, how little I am to be trusted. I think that deep down I am bitter that I am an imperfect being- incomplete and wayward in my thinking, unable to right itself.

What a horribly beautiful thing it is to be a human. What a horribly beautiful thing it is to feel and try and dare.

["you were a million years of work," said God and His angels, with needle and thread. they kissed your head and said, "you're a good kid and you make us proud. so just give your best and the rest will come, and we'll see you soon."] -Sleeping At Last

But I must get up again. There is forgiveness, and it is real.