All That's Left

"It comes cheap, but leaves at a premium."

"Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret."

"An eye for an eye would make the whole world blind."

"If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape a hundred days of sorrow."

"Spiteful words can hurt your feelings but silence breaks your heart."



I have to apologize up front I think... this blog is going to be dark.



I hate the feeling.
The feeling of seeing a wall miles in front and walking straight into it.
I hate the feeling that I feel when I fail.
I hate having my chest split open and my throat knot up.
Whatever started it and whatever finished it doesn't matter anymore because it's finished... I'm finished.
I hate the emptiness.
That pit, that empty void where every moment, beautiful and tragic is lost.
I hate that I'm losing.
That I'm lost.

I love...
I love being on my knees, face down.
I love it how you reach in and pull out the infection.
It is painful, but joyous.
I love it how I only ever weep in your presence.
I love it how you keep your promises.
I love how you lift me out.
I love it how you empower me.

Have all that's left.
I can be better.
I will be better.
Move on.

I Will Stand Over Your Fallen

I was reflecting on the way home today (which is pretty much how all of these blogs are thought up) how I have changed over the course of my teenage years and the recent thrust into adulthood. As I thought of these things my imagination begin to form images as symbols of how my outlook had changed and how my priorities shifted. This is what I saw...

First, a man standing across from me hidden in shadow. I scowl at him, as he represents everything I loathe and all that makes me sick. Absolutely everything that is wrong with this world I feel this man is responsible for. I charge him only run into empty air and fall on my face. I slowly pick myself up only to hear the haunting laughter behind me I quickly turn around and tackle him to the ground only to be staring at my own face. I cannot kill myself. He disappears and I am all alone and surrounded by darkness. I put my head in my hands and weep bitterly.

I then saw the same scenario again, this time I had a sword. The sword is a gift from my father, it has his strength, his will and his authority molded into it. Again I charge at him, but I do not know how to wield this sword and he deflects my attack and wounds me greatly. I hit the ground holding my wound and slowly pull myself away while he smirks at my crippled body.

For the third time the same scenario appears. I have this time a sword and a shield. The shield represents discipline, love and integrity. It is round and has painted on it's circular center all the faces of the people I have ever cared about and those who have cared for me. If I fail, my corpse will be laid across my shield to represent what I have sacrificed for.
This time there is no smirk on his face, he sees me as a threat and he is the one to charge. Now that I have my shield I easily deflect his attacks and knock him back. He then disappears under the cloak of darkness. I look around in a ready stance... I then hear a clambering behind me. I turn around I see another man with a sword and shield similar to mine. He represents twenty years of brothers who have stood by me through some tough times.


This all sounds very he-man, I know, I'm not really the confronting type. But this to me is the perfect symbolism of how my life with God and my struggles with pornography, anger and idleness progressed.

Especially since I love the whole warrior view... more than once I've been caught making sound effects while swinging a stick around.

The First Thing You Should Know

Integrity - an undivided or unbroken completeness or totality with nothing wanting
- moral soundness
- consistency of actions, values, methods, measures, principles, expectations and outcome

I'm gonna take this space and be bold and honest, more than before, to the point where I might regret it later.

From my point of view, life wouldn't be as lonely if everyone was like me. But then, what makes me unique is no longer unique.

I've struggled to make friends all my life, it's not a complaint, it's just reality. I am one of a kind, and I know it. It's not a pride thing, but more of a content acceptance. Being so different, in primary school I was cast out, pushed out and ignored. In High school, I segregated myself cause I feared more rejection, which I got anyway, cause I was different. But as I got older, I began to discover who I was, deep down, inside and out. I found that I was made this way for reason and all that happened, all that had crushed me, numbed me and pierced me were all for a reason. I am who I am because of what I've been through.

If I could take anything away from what I've experienced over these years it's that you shouldn't compromise on who you are. Not for the sake of the opposite sex, not for your peers and certainly not for popularity. If people hate you, that's their problem not yours. You know what's you, and what's not you, cause what IS you is incorruptible.