a beautiful soul and artist unexpectedly stepped into my life. imparting words which were wrapped in comfort knowing that i was not alone. the very nature of an artist is to teem with imagination and ideas. an unhealthy idealism leads me down unhealthy unceasing paths of what could be. what could be if i could facilitate community with consistency. what beauty could come out of that, in so many different avenues and branches. roadways and foliage bursting with possibility. overlapping and intricately weaved in and out of each other, never choking, merely producing life and more life. life abundant. what if we could love each other. what if i could love. what if we recaptured that which was lost. what if we supported our words with action. what if we were completely selfless. what if we could love.
point is. the source of my frustration lately has been a longing for kingdom come. i’m sick of messing up. but its something that i am naturally inclined to do. which by the way, is frustrating in and of itself, why to we have to be inclined to fail. that’s a shitty plan. i have a big imagination and an idealist, which means even more let downs. maybe naivety has saved me till now. but i’m becoming more and more disappointed as i grow up. i can be in awe of and try to be like a child, but it becomes childish. i’m not a child. we grow up. we have to find a new way to connect. on more realistic terms i suppose.
even adam and eve had an inclination to fail. they lost awe of god. desired to make themselves like god. i recognize that’s what i’m doing. i know my perspective is small and god must be smirking at me thinking me silly and puerile. fine. but it’s a shitty plan.
i feel like i'm in a movie scene. or maybe an actual scene from my own life. where i'm throwing a tantrum. my parents put me in my room. i'm banging against the door, crying until my eyes start hurting. through my cries and screams, i know in my head exactly what i need to do to get out of my room. my parents have told me, past trips to my room and back out reinforce it. how to be free and play again, to escape the isolation. misery feels better though in that moment, i am in complete control of my misery. and its miserable. but i'm so stubborn.
