Why Do I Dwell?

Out of a lack of self-control, I suppose, I spend far too long analyzing the snippets of others' lives that are available to be ogled at online. I come up short, continually: I feel unintelligent (for I feel I have not portrayed myself as such adequately), quite unwomanly (which is, more or less, true), unattractive, not quite able to be "fun" (which, as I age, comes to mean more and more that I refuse intoxicants and some of the more self-serving, useless pastimes), and, generally speaking, an all-around stick in the mud sort of hermit.

This phenomena, I know, is not limited to me. I see it in action subtly in other's conduct and words. Pop psychology has also mentioned it. Something about living our lives online makes even the most popular of us, it seems, feel as if we are in need of more attention and more reverence for being unique. I am not popular and never have been. Mostly, I don't want to be popular- too many negative trade-offs would have to be made and, frankly, I don't have the energy to invest heavily in shallow friendships. Yet I wish I were seen as beautiful, smart, and creative... Selfishness makes me desire such things, I know... There are higher ideals to be strove towards, and I would do well to concentrate on such things instead of my own rather unalterable traits.

The Night Mare, revisited

"so may you come with your own knives

you'll never take me alive

with all the force of what is true

is there nothing I can do?"

There never really quite is anything to do about anything. This life is one that forever increases ones longing for connection whilst with subtle trickery replacing, piece by piece, your loved ones with a straw man of a figure whose every whim threatens to rule your life, should you allow it.

I am very sad today. Fall awakens within me the longing for that cruel world of dreams which I spurned while it lasted and lamented when it left. I want my friends back. But what sickens me is the irony- the karma, perhaps- of the situation. In my early adolescence, I was untouchable, it seemed- able to cast aside whomever I willed and focus instead on some self-absorbed pursuit. Within only a few years, the scales of justice turned, and now I receive little to no mercy from those who I once loved, then hated, then loved again. It's maddening, and I would that I had never, ever treated anyone like this...

Yet still I am not penitent: still I am jealous and self-indulgent.. Nothing short of a miracle could dissuade me from this path..

Do I still continue on? Do I ride on, and if so, for what purpose, if any, beyond the hope that I might be found worthy of mercy on Judgement Day and might impart some weak points of love unto others?

In so many ways am I am cruel and double-minded; I must wait for this irrational passion to leave me, yet again, so that one day it might never again return. One day, shall I honestly not feel the sting of the perceived loss of those who I most firmly decided to cling to at one, far-away point in the desolate region that is the past?

It's not fair.. For you

I hope I don't drag you down.

I don't want to drag anyone else down.. Especially not when you are rising above where you have been.

In the end, you're more valuable to you than I am.. Remember that. If my misery reigns.. Well, it does love company, does it not? I don't want to suck you in and be the leech I seem to, saddeningly enough, thrive as.. I can garner no comfort from such a situation and neither can you.

Love, as defined by a four year-old

"'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.' Billy - age 4"

Last weekend, I went to my first hospice volunteer orientation (another is to come this Saturday). Among the many other things that were discussed, one of their resident chaplains read aloud a list (which I found here) of the various, respective ways that various children defined love. The above quotation struck me more than any of the others, resounding in me for a while..

Perhaps this child had a different message to convey in mind when he said the above, but to me the first thing that came to mind was how I have no honor left to be found in the people I have loved's mouths. I cannot blame them-- the blame is all mine, no matter if they did wrong or not-- but I so wish that they had something to remember me for (and speak of, and love) than spite, hatred, and passive-agression. I broke all love they had for me, and now they proclaim it to the nations: Look! I have struck again in sly evil, yet my prey is not defeated!

The lack of love you hold for me shows. I know I cannot fall into your (or your people's) good graces. You remember me with disdain and so you speak of me with disdain.

My sins are many and well repeated; my love is buried. You love me not. You love me not. Never have you loved me. I am without advocate in this world, for I have done nothing to garner either the pity, respect, or admiration that causes one to uphold a name.

I remember you all.. The good and bad. If it's the least I can do, your name is safe with me. What's love if I cannot do that?

Until the words grow old..

Emptiness and I are no strangers;
Nor am I alien to pain;
Dying, I lay claim to my devotion:
Endings make no change to the times I thought we shared.
Don't think I care not now, for care is the only thing I have.

Something said in church imparted me with more inspiration and drive to carry on.
"God loves you, and I love you."
That's really all I can say; I cannot rationalize eight or more years of my life to you. Not now. I do love you; I loved you in a way purer than I could love a man (who I'd be interested romantically in, more than likely, of course). It doesn't amount to much, does it?

Growing in Acceptance

This post is sure to be heavily censored in the hopes that I do not allow negative thoughts/emotions to run free and, unrestrained, keep me tethered to the past and all of it's hurt that I so easily cling to..

Evil, at it's most banal, is very convoluted. Through my wrong-doings, I have confused and damaged only myself (though I fear that I have hurt others... But they claim well-being, so perhaps I should do as all do and let me conscience shrug it all off) and left myself in a position of flight-or-fight. To fight is inconceivable and impossible: either for good, to reclaim what I wanted, or for bad, to damage those I was supposed to care for. To flee, then, is my only response. I know I cannot escape my past (I know this better than anyone!), but if I escaped the halls and places and people that I have defiled, then perhaps I may find respite and regain my courage, foster love in my tattered, poisoned heart, and find the true way into the barred, elusive present.

For that reason, I eagerly await the coming of summer. It will be a bit more secluded than in years past, but such a thing could be beneficial if I could find some people who would expend some of their time upon me. If that happens, plus I begin with my volunteering (and face death and the dying), venture forth from my home on vacation and indulge in the sweet, temporary serenity that brings, escape to PHCC and these people who I missed a chance at knowing, and begin again to centralize Christ in my life, then I shall be on a good road to more of a hope of recovery than I have ever had. I just need to banish self-pity from my mind and soul. If I keep hope alive, then I will one day have friends beyond just Wesley (who I fear hurting, anyhow). If I allow hope to wane, I shall never change- and then what? A person incapable of connecting to other humans is one unfit to live. I can make no alliance, good or bad, and that is a puzzling issue.

Stay Calm..

From the one who knows all:
A little is all I want; a respite from loneliness.
Let me not hurt you, but won't you help me?
Let you not know me, but won't you care for me?

Can I ever remain stable enough for long enough so that I may gain new friends? I don't know if I can. I sink and rise, showing all sorts of things that either are parts of me I don't wish to show or are not even truly parts of me..

It's tough. It's hard to win people over when you have no security, no foundation to retreat to.

For once.. I wish to return to civilization.

Being alone is fine, when alone is what I choose,
After that, I long for the chance for a change.
Carelessness I cannot long uphold..
Kristen, my dear, you are meant to dream of better things while you have the good. Return!


I deeply want to attend school tomorrow. It is getting rather depressing and worrisome being cooped up in my house with both my eyes itching and being rather stiff. I'd rather go to school and face the bittersweet reality of possibility and failure than the pseudo-reality of missing out on all the small, insignificant occurrences. My! I would never survive should I drop out of high school. Good thing I haven't the least desire to do that (I love the concept of learning and showing learning achievements through the passing of classes and the acquisition of credits).

Anyhow. I am in a sort of bland, good period of my life where God is really giving me the opportunity to peacefully learn about Him. Sadly, I have neglected this opportunity more than I should.. But the time I've spent reading the Bible has been fruitful, though I can't yet tell you how. I read the words, and though they aren't convicting me, they are real to me. As if I witnessed Jesus' sermons and saw him in his last days and really heard the wisdom in his parables.

My life is really, really good right now. I've found peace in God and don't have to fret over a certain someone. COUGH. That doesn't mean I still don't like him.. But putting him as my god unintentionally not only ruins me and my relationship with God but also freaks him out. Besides, I don't want a desperate relationships- ever. I want one of mutual dependence (to an extent), kindness, help, and trust.

That is all- I want to get to bed so that I can focus, should I attend my silly school in the morning.

It's What I Must Do

Crying is not the only indicator-
Arrogance, apathy, and deception are, too
Raw and hurting, we are all
Ever wondering quite what is wrong.

Before, blinded by my own hurt, I was unable to help any with their own hurt, and, as it hurts to see hurt in others but not help, I desensitized myself and tried to see only the callous, hard, often-cruel outside of everyone. Rock-hard shells need no sympathy, after all.

Now, I am forever delving beyond the stony fronts that those around me have erected about themselves. I can forgive anything, these days, because I know that somewhere inside each person that wrongs me or another is a scared, hurt, and raw soul. If I seek that- and it always shows, if only a little- and I cannot help but feel pain for them.

And how great a number of "them" there are! My heartbreaks each day as I watch people make destructive decisions over and over, as I sit and watch-unable to offer any help but friendship and an open heart forever accumulating pain to be converted to love by God. Love, poured out on those who accept it and those who do not. Love, to hopefully, one day, carve (as a waterfall does) a rut through the rock of their hurt and fill them with a love greater than I can offer alone.