In that I move. It's always very nice to. I don't quite seem to always know where, but to make up one's mind is to have a contentment. If I've made my mind to walk through hell, and walk until that hell becomes a heaven...it will happen. The worst of all this, however, is that once I've walked through hell and gotten to heaven....that I've got naught much more to do. In this I'm lost.
What are you going to do now?
It seems regular to walk up stairs in order to study on the 8th floor of the library, but on the way down having accomplished that which you set out..or perhaps not...
on that travel down that mountain having accomplished or having failed...making a decision as to what to do is imminently eminent.
FUCK!.!.l./.i,T
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Memoirs of an Assassin: Foreword and Ch. 1 My First Assignment
Memoirs of an Assassin
Forward, Foreword
BGSU has a few shining idiosyncrasies that make the school worth attending, and more than a few of them come from Kreischer Compton Darrow’s RA staff. This particular conduit of enjoyment was found in a game, that, when kept in its simplest form, deals with subterfuge and sneakery. Inspiration for this game came from the online series of videos titled “Dorm Life”, and the principle is simple: You are given a target to assassinate, and you are someone else’s target. Your ultimate objective is to stand up out of the cloudy mists of war espoused disaster, look around at all the death, it’s origin being you, and say, “There is none left to contest!” In that respect “Assassins”, as we refer to it, resembles a Shakespearean play.
“Assassins” and Shakespearean plays foster the growth dramatic events, heart pounding intensity, and adrenaline surging scenarios of hide and seek on a grander scale. Out of such experiences I have gleaned memories, and it is for the sake of memory, and the dispersal of those memories, that I have constructed a memoir accounting for all the details of the teeth grinding trickery. Playing “Assassins” in the future may well become more difficult, because I will reveal tactics and strategies that I have employed. However, I look forward to the challenge, and wish for all of you to delight in the buffoon written stories that I hope will bring closure to the events surrounding my role in this round of the game.
Below are the complete set of rules as they were given to us with my explanations included in parentheses
1. You can only assassinate the name you currently possess
1. You obtain new names through assassinating the person whose name you possess
2. Never give out the name you possess.
2. In order to assassinate someone, you must mark their skin with your marker
1. No throwing the marker or anything similar
2. You must use the same marker throughout the entire game
3. If you are caught in an assassination attempt by the person you are assassinating, then the assassin has 3 seconds to finish the kill or they must wait an hour before attempting another assassination.
i. Defense is played by yelling assassin or marker when you are about to be assassinated.
ii. No chasing someone in order to assassinate them…
1. Safe Zones
1. The Desk and Backroom are dubbed the assassin area of amnesty.
2. The meeting of assassins that occurs every Wednesday is a no kill zone.
3. Assassins on Duty guard are off limits. (This rule only applies to duty walks. RA’s walk the building to make sure everyone is safe and well, and it did not sit well with our hall directors to allow a game to conflict with such a responsibility. However, as long as the RA was not performing such a responsibility they were fair game.)
4. Any assassin doing business for another guild or organization is off limits.
5. If an assassin is in classroom training, they are off limits.
2. When you are assassinated, you must post your death on the KCD facebook page under the assassinated people post (This rule was quickly amended, and the new rule told people to call the facilitator of the game so that he could post ominously that “someone” was killed. Further on in the game he stopped posting.)
1. You must not post who assassinated you.
3. The Game will begin on Sunday at Midnight. (technically Monday morning)
1. Good Luck assassins
THE END OF THE RULES
Ch. 1
My First Assignment
Because my schedule is generally filled to the brim with anxiety I was tentative to join the game, even though it interested me. Yet, time and imagination coaxed me into throwing my hat into the ring. Thought gave way to creativity, and creativity gave way to the millions of ways this game would be fun. Entering my name, I chose my color: purple, and Facebook had provided me with the means for committing to this round of “Assassins”.
Still blissfully ignorant of how serious the game would become, I was disappointed that it did not start Friday night/Saturday morning. Preparations concerning the rules and organization of the assassins needed to be made, causing a later start, and like a child I felt like the time would never come. Monday morning at 12 am was the agreed upon starting time, which couldn’t come soon enough. This delay of a few days caused “Assassins” to float from my immediate sphere of interest onto the backburner.
Sunday night had finally come, but my attentions lied with other more serious preoccupations. Untellable time was poured into an art project that was due the next day (no worries I got my REM sleep). At that time “Assassins” had completely slipped my mind, something that wouldn’t happen again for a long while, and staring at me from the ground, underneath my door was a small note with my name on it. Dense as I was I didn’t notice it for quite some time, but when I did notice it I was perplexed. Here I opened this note expecting something intimate, like a confession, but instead a goofy picture of one of my co-RA’s faces was staring back at me. Interestingly enough I still didn’t put two and two together, and I figured this note for a misunderstood joke. Why would someone give me a picture of Clayton?
Person: Stephen, this is what your co-RA looks like.
Stephen: Thanks :)
Somewhere in the depths of that late night homework session reason came riding on a horse, and leant me its understanding, as I finally realized what the crap that piece of paper meant. From that point on I started carrying a marker, and had my eyes open for Clayton. Many times that night I paced by his door checking underneath to see if the light was on or when he’d be back. It was important for me to rely on surprise, but I wasn’t too worried about getting Clayton, he did live down the hall after all.
Earlier I had grabbed a purple marker from a set of crayola markers, but soon I replaced it with a purple marker from the front desk. Black was the main neutral color on this new marker, which made it way cooler than the other one I had been using before. To understand this logic you have to understand why the black versions of superheroes are so much cooler than their regular manifestations: Venom, Black Wargreymon, the black power ranger, Non-Adam West Batman, black belts, Darth Vader, and the Civil Rights Movement, they’re all just cooler than the original.
Time flew by quickly that morning and I needed to get my project over to the art building, while it was not raining. What I had created for an end product was a comic painted with watercolor and mounted on a large board requiring two hands to adequately support it. Grabbing my jacket I embarked for the art building with both hands on my project, a marker in my coat pocket, and a thankful smile for the lack of rain.
Half of the main sidewalk that runs in between the art building and Kreischer had been under construction for about year, but the fence that blocked it had come down recently allowing for 2X THE WALKING ROOM! Halfway into my journey across the treacherous wetlands I spotted Clayton, and we reacted to one another as awkward college boys do, making faces and strange movements. Yet, my bi-pedal movement remained unimpeded, because I did not wish to be late to this important critique. Some faces were made and then Clayton said, “nice board”, and then he quickly passed by. Before this moment of passing I let go of my board with one hand and fumbled for my marker, as we passed one another. Anguish filled my soul, for my quarry had escaped my clutches.
After my class I decided some sleep was needed, so I planned to go to my room to catch an hour or so before lifegroup that night. My room was a mess, and I left some of the watercolors’ water out on my card table that I use as a work area for projects. Merky water was something I wanted away from all the things that could be ruined by it. Somewhat cheerfully and somewhat in a daze from lack of sleep, I walked to the sink in the laundry room. On my way there I became aware of Clayton behind me, and my eyes shot. Clayton wished to talk to me about official RA business, but my logic hadn’t thought it through that the game wouldn’t work if we were each others’ targets. Instead I assumed that him as a very real immediate threat, as he walked aggressively towards me in shorts and a t-shirt after having worked out. Clayton was closing in on me too quickly, and that spooked me. I threw the watercolor water quickly into the sink, and my reflexes bid me jump aside so that I was facing Clayton, who was now right in front of the sink. Tense worried muscles caused the water to be thrown into the sink much harder than would make sense to throw water, and this directly resulted in the water coming back out of the sink and landing in Clayton’s eyes.
Clayton wiping the water from his eyes in typical dramatic sitcom fashion left me plenty of time to grab the marker from my pocket and strike him on his beefy upper arm. Once he had cleared his eyes he used them to quizzically examine the fatal blow that had been dealt him. Not fully understanding I explained with a grin, “Hah, I got you…for assassins…I killed you.” His answer was somewhat disappointing, “Oh, did that start?….wait…does this mean I’m dead?” An intense frown of sadness grabbed Clayton’s face, and then he continued on to call me an asshole. He threw a short fit, which I ignored and sort of understood. After all I had barely remembered that we were supposed to start.
Clayton and I talked briefly and I shared how I knew that I was meant to kill him. After a few words he understood the white piece of paper bearing his name on the outside, and the image of my other co-RA on the inside was really an official “Assassins” game super secret assignment. Energy flowed through my body from the happening, so I forewent the nap that was scheduled for 4 pm to 5ish to start cracking on work. My priorities kept my mind on work, but at least some thought flowed to Cierra, “When do I see that girl anyway?”
Ch. 2
Acquiring a Taste for Blood
(Continued at a later time)
Forward, Foreword
BGSU has a few shining idiosyncrasies that make the school worth attending, and more than a few of them come from Kreischer Compton Darrow’s RA staff. This particular conduit of enjoyment was found in a game, that, when kept in its simplest form, deals with subterfuge and sneakery. Inspiration for this game came from the online series of videos titled “Dorm Life”, and the principle is simple: You are given a target to assassinate, and you are someone else’s target. Your ultimate objective is to stand up out of the cloudy mists of war espoused disaster, look around at all the death, it’s origin being you, and say, “There is none left to contest!” In that respect “Assassins”, as we refer to it, resembles a Shakespearean play.
“Assassins” and Shakespearean plays foster the growth dramatic events, heart pounding intensity, and adrenaline surging scenarios of hide and seek on a grander scale. Out of such experiences I have gleaned memories, and it is for the sake of memory, and the dispersal of those memories, that I have constructed a memoir accounting for all the details of the teeth grinding trickery. Playing “Assassins” in the future may well become more difficult, because I will reveal tactics and strategies that I have employed. However, I look forward to the challenge, and wish for all of you to delight in the buffoon written stories that I hope will bring closure to the events surrounding my role in this round of the game.
Below are the complete set of rules as they were given to us with my explanations included in parentheses
1. You can only assassinate the name you currently possess
1. You obtain new names through assassinating the person whose name you possess
2. Never give out the name you possess.
2. In order to assassinate someone, you must mark their skin with your marker
1. No throwing the marker or anything similar
2. You must use the same marker throughout the entire game
3. If you are caught in an assassination attempt by the person you are assassinating, then the assassin has 3 seconds to finish the kill or they must wait an hour before attempting another assassination.
i. Defense is played by yelling assassin or marker when you are about to be assassinated.
ii. No chasing someone in order to assassinate them…
1. Safe Zones
1. The Desk and Backroom are dubbed the assassin area of amnesty.
2. The meeting of assassins that occurs every Wednesday is a no kill zone.
3. Assassins on Duty guard are off limits. (This rule only applies to duty walks. RA’s walk the building to make sure everyone is safe and well, and it did not sit well with our hall directors to allow a game to conflict with such a responsibility. However, as long as the RA was not performing such a responsibility they were fair game.)
4. Any assassin doing business for another guild or organization is off limits.
5. If an assassin is in classroom training, they are off limits.
2. When you are assassinated, you must post your death on the KCD facebook page under the assassinated people post (This rule was quickly amended, and the new rule told people to call the facilitator of the game so that he could post ominously that “someone” was killed. Further on in the game he stopped posting.)
1. You must not post who assassinated you.
3. The Game will begin on Sunday at Midnight. (technically Monday morning)
1. Good Luck assassins
THE END OF THE RULES
Ch. 1
My First Assignment
Because my schedule is generally filled to the brim with anxiety I was tentative to join the game, even though it interested me. Yet, time and imagination coaxed me into throwing my hat into the ring. Thought gave way to creativity, and creativity gave way to the millions of ways this game would be fun. Entering my name, I chose my color: purple, and Facebook had provided me with the means for committing to this round of “Assassins”.
Still blissfully ignorant of how serious the game would become, I was disappointed that it did not start Friday night/Saturday morning. Preparations concerning the rules and organization of the assassins needed to be made, causing a later start, and like a child I felt like the time would never come. Monday morning at 12 am was the agreed upon starting time, which couldn’t come soon enough. This delay of a few days caused “Assassins” to float from my immediate sphere of interest onto the backburner.
Sunday night had finally come, but my attentions lied with other more serious preoccupations. Untellable time was poured into an art project that was due the next day (no worries I got my REM sleep). At that time “Assassins” had completely slipped my mind, something that wouldn’t happen again for a long while, and staring at me from the ground, underneath my door was a small note with my name on it. Dense as I was I didn’t notice it for quite some time, but when I did notice it I was perplexed. Here I opened this note expecting something intimate, like a confession, but instead a goofy picture of one of my co-RA’s faces was staring back at me. Interestingly enough I still didn’t put two and two together, and I figured this note for a misunderstood joke. Why would someone give me a picture of Clayton?
Person: Stephen, this is what your co-RA looks like.
Stephen: Thanks :)
Somewhere in the depths of that late night homework session reason came riding on a horse, and leant me its understanding, as I finally realized what the crap that piece of paper meant. From that point on I started carrying a marker, and had my eyes open for Clayton. Many times that night I paced by his door checking underneath to see if the light was on or when he’d be back. It was important for me to rely on surprise, but I wasn’t too worried about getting Clayton, he did live down the hall after all.
Earlier I had grabbed a purple marker from a set of crayola markers, but soon I replaced it with a purple marker from the front desk. Black was the main neutral color on this new marker, which made it way cooler than the other one I had been using before. To understand this logic you have to understand why the black versions of superheroes are so much cooler than their regular manifestations: Venom, Black Wargreymon, the black power ranger, Non-Adam West Batman, black belts, Darth Vader, and the Civil Rights Movement, they’re all just cooler than the original.
Time flew by quickly that morning and I needed to get my project over to the art building, while it was not raining. What I had created for an end product was a comic painted with watercolor and mounted on a large board requiring two hands to adequately support it. Grabbing my jacket I embarked for the art building with both hands on my project, a marker in my coat pocket, and a thankful smile for the lack of rain.
Half of the main sidewalk that runs in between the art building and Kreischer had been under construction for about year, but the fence that blocked it had come down recently allowing for 2X THE WALKING ROOM! Halfway into my journey across the treacherous wetlands I spotted Clayton, and we reacted to one another as awkward college boys do, making faces and strange movements. Yet, my bi-pedal movement remained unimpeded, because I did not wish to be late to this important critique. Some faces were made and then Clayton said, “nice board”, and then he quickly passed by. Before this moment of passing I let go of my board with one hand and fumbled for my marker, as we passed one another. Anguish filled my soul, for my quarry had escaped my clutches.
After my class I decided some sleep was needed, so I planned to go to my room to catch an hour or so before lifegroup that night. My room was a mess, and I left some of the watercolors’ water out on my card table that I use as a work area for projects. Merky water was something I wanted away from all the things that could be ruined by it. Somewhat cheerfully and somewhat in a daze from lack of sleep, I walked to the sink in the laundry room. On my way there I became aware of Clayton behind me, and my eyes shot. Clayton wished to talk to me about official RA business, but my logic hadn’t thought it through that the game wouldn’t work if we were each others’ targets. Instead I assumed that him as a very real immediate threat, as he walked aggressively towards me in shorts and a t-shirt after having worked out. Clayton was closing in on me too quickly, and that spooked me. I threw the watercolor water quickly into the sink, and my reflexes bid me jump aside so that I was facing Clayton, who was now right in front of the sink. Tense worried muscles caused the water to be thrown into the sink much harder than would make sense to throw water, and this directly resulted in the water coming back out of the sink and landing in Clayton’s eyes.
Clayton wiping the water from his eyes in typical dramatic sitcom fashion left me plenty of time to grab the marker from my pocket and strike him on his beefy upper arm. Once he had cleared his eyes he used them to quizzically examine the fatal blow that had been dealt him. Not fully understanding I explained with a grin, “Hah, I got you…for assassins…I killed you.” His answer was somewhat disappointing, “Oh, did that start?….wait…does this mean I’m dead?” An intense frown of sadness grabbed Clayton’s face, and then he continued on to call me an asshole. He threw a short fit, which I ignored and sort of understood. After all I had barely remembered that we were supposed to start.
Clayton and I talked briefly and I shared how I knew that I was meant to kill him. After a few words he understood the white piece of paper bearing his name on the outside, and the image of my other co-RA on the inside was really an official “Assassins” game super secret assignment. Energy flowed through my body from the happening, so I forewent the nap that was scheduled for 4 pm to 5ish to start cracking on work. My priorities kept my mind on work, but at least some thought flowed to Cierra, “When do I see that girl anyway?”
Ch. 2
Acquiring a Taste for Blood
(Continued at a later time)
Friday, November 11, 2011
Overwhelmed.
Anxiety is not my problem right now.
I have lots of things to do, and there is a bit of anxiety that blends its way into things. However, I'm just exhausted. I've noticed that I can't take media anymore. I hate the television. I can't take music anymore. I'm growing weary of people, and conversations to be honest. I'm focusing on myself. I suppose, but I feel like there are all these people taking bits and pieces from me, and I really don't make any real connections. It takes me an hour to get up in the morning, which I think is just a side-effect of being incredibly tired.
God is more real.
I don't understand it myself.
I need some close people who I can relax with, because I'm falling apart. I'm remembering the lonliness that I had during the summer, and it hurts. It's vacuous...I didn't feel like eating last night because of it.
I pity people a whole bunch, but I don't know how to help them. I really admire Steve Rieske a bunch now for his role in my life. I think he is an exemplary man in many ways. He's true. Interestingly enough I wonder if he could ever go back on his faith...and the answer it no. He's too far in I think. It's too much of who he is...and for that matter I feel Christianity is too much of who I am for me to go back on it. I'm not sure if it matters whether or not it ALL makes sense. Enough of it makes sense, and not just surface details but intimate details of the faith make the most sense. Things that other religions don't talk about seem to make the most sense.
I can't help everyone. I'm getting older. I can't be their friends....
Somehow I picked up this idea that we just all need to be friends or at least tolerate one another, and then we'll be fine. That's not true. I can't do that. I can't tolerate everyone, because some are evil. If you think everyone is good...you're wrong. I can't tolerate other people because they're too good, I'm jealous, and that's my evil. I can't be friends with everyone, because they're not like me...we need to share intimate truths...I can be surface acquaintances...but don't expect much from that.
However, I can love them. I can try to help them, but much of love is tough in type and manner.
I have lots of things to do, and there is a bit of anxiety that blends its way into things. However, I'm just exhausted. I've noticed that I can't take media anymore. I hate the television. I can't take music anymore. I'm growing weary of people, and conversations to be honest. I'm focusing on myself. I suppose, but I feel like there are all these people taking bits and pieces from me, and I really don't make any real connections. It takes me an hour to get up in the morning, which I think is just a side-effect of being incredibly tired.
God is more real.
I don't understand it myself.
I need some close people who I can relax with, because I'm falling apart. I'm remembering the lonliness that I had during the summer, and it hurts. It's vacuous...I didn't feel like eating last night because of it.
I pity people a whole bunch, but I don't know how to help them. I really admire Steve Rieske a bunch now for his role in my life. I think he is an exemplary man in many ways. He's true. Interestingly enough I wonder if he could ever go back on his faith...and the answer it no. He's too far in I think. It's too much of who he is...and for that matter I feel Christianity is too much of who I am for me to go back on it. I'm not sure if it matters whether or not it ALL makes sense. Enough of it makes sense, and not just surface details but intimate details of the faith make the most sense. Things that other religions don't talk about seem to make the most sense.
I can't help everyone. I'm getting older. I can't be their friends....
Somehow I picked up this idea that we just all need to be friends or at least tolerate one another, and then we'll be fine. That's not true. I can't do that. I can't tolerate everyone, because some are evil. If you think everyone is good...you're wrong. I can't tolerate other people because they're too good, I'm jealous, and that's my evil. I can't be friends with everyone, because they're not like me...we need to share intimate truths...I can be surface acquaintances...but don't expect much from that.
However, I can love them. I can try to help them, but much of love is tough in type and manner.
Monday, October 31, 2011
NEW
Hey Lord,
I'm not sure what to say about today. I was convicted intensely today...Lord I'm not sure what to think. I feel like such a slob. Ultimately belief is belief...and unbelief is unbelief...I want to pursue unbelief...and I want to pursue belief....
I find parts of Belief attractive...
I find parts of unbelief attractive....
I find them both unavoidable, and I find Christians weak. I find myself weak. I find myself selfish.
I desire something outside myself to help me become more than I am.
Jesus if you are willing take me...give me hope. Give me the hard decisions...whatever they may be.
I'm scared out of my mind of losing my parents. I'm scared out of my mind.
They're my security. They're my love. I can't think of anyone else who loves me so much. The rest of this world seems to want something from me...even Christians...but...my parents...they just love me...they've loved me since before I loved them. and I suppose that's how you are. please Lord bless them.
Bless Emily too. she's going through a rough time...let her know that I don't hate her. Be with Katie and Dani, and the other Emily tonight...Help Michelle out let her draw closer to you, as well as Ethan. I pray for the rest of the RA's including myself that we would come to see something of a truth about you. I want to believe...Lord...
Give me the tools that make faith...and an authentic one too. Jesus I read your book, but I just get frustrated. Anyway. I'm heading out...bed is now. Jesus. if you are there. please. please. please...do your will in my life.
I'm not sure what to say about today. I was convicted intensely today...Lord I'm not sure what to think. I feel like such a slob. Ultimately belief is belief...and unbelief is unbelief...I want to pursue unbelief...and I want to pursue belief....
I find parts of Belief attractive...
I find parts of unbelief attractive....
I find them both unavoidable, and I find Christians weak. I find myself weak. I find myself selfish.
I desire something outside myself to help me become more than I am.
Jesus if you are willing take me...give me hope. Give me the hard decisions...whatever they may be.
I'm scared out of my mind of losing my parents. I'm scared out of my mind.
They're my security. They're my love. I can't think of anyone else who loves me so much. The rest of this world seems to want something from me...even Christians...but...my parents...they just love me...they've loved me since before I loved them. and I suppose that's how you are. please Lord bless them.
Bless Emily too. she's going through a rough time...let her know that I don't hate her. Be with Katie and Dani, and the other Emily tonight...Help Michelle out let her draw closer to you, as well as Ethan. I pray for the rest of the RA's including myself that we would come to see something of a truth about you. I want to believe...Lord...
Give me the tools that make faith...and an authentic one too. Jesus I read your book, but I just get frustrated. Anyway. I'm heading out...bed is now. Jesus. if you are there. please. please. please...do your will in my life.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Library Class Post
This is a post I did for a class, but I thought I came up with some interesting ideas about information.
"As soon as something happens information is created, and it is a tendency for us humans to make that information more structured as time ebbs on. Knowledge appears in fluid formats in its nascent stages such as: word of mouth, radio, television, and the internet. Generally, these beginning formats of information are meant mainly for dissemination, and because of that they tend to be more basic in form and can lend themselves to being amended. As time goes on more information is added to the subject until the information has been completely solidified, catalogued, and analyzed with scholarly journals and books.
This is the information cycle that Dr. Bob Baker described in the video. It is a concept that I never really thought about consciously, but it is not entirely new either. Solidifying knowledge is something we all do on a regular basis, so it makes sense that we would do so on a grander scale with information that is outside of our heads.
Example: For a child the world is filled with wonder, because it has not completely understood or categorized the information in it. An older child will have less difficulty understanding the world around them, because they are more familiar with the data they are encountering and have made associations with that data to help them define that data more clearly, generally speaking. We may see an animal that is new to us and wonder if it is a cat, a dog, or a fish, but the information becomes more stable as we become more familiar through investigation. Then we can confidently say that this animal is a fish, because we have synthesized the information that tells us what a fish is with the information that is available to us about the animal we are looking at. "
"As soon as something happens information is created, and it is a tendency for us humans to make that information more structured as time ebbs on. Knowledge appears in fluid formats in its nascent stages such as: word of mouth, radio, television, and the internet. Generally, these beginning formats of information are meant mainly for dissemination, and because of that they tend to be more basic in form and can lend themselves to being amended. As time goes on more information is added to the subject until the information has been completely solidified, catalogued, and analyzed with scholarly journals and books.
This is the information cycle that Dr. Bob Baker described in the video. It is a concept that I never really thought about consciously, but it is not entirely new either. Solidifying knowledge is something we all do on a regular basis, so it makes sense that we would do so on a grander scale with information that is outside of our heads.
Example: For a child the world is filled with wonder, because it has not completely understood or categorized the information in it. An older child will have less difficulty understanding the world around them, because they are more familiar with the data they are encountering and have made associations with that data to help them define that data more clearly, generally speaking. We may see an animal that is new to us and wonder if it is a cat, a dog, or a fish, but the information becomes more stable as we become more familiar through investigation. Then we can confidently say that this animal is a fish, because we have synthesized the information that tells us what a fish is with the information that is available to us about the animal we are looking at. "
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Christ and I
Christ and I have been sort on the out. I'd like to write a prayer to Him. Lord I listen to your preachers and Your people they're wonderful people...and some of the things I hear I know are wrong...and some of things I hear I don't know about. I don't know how you work...and I know t...that all I am is evil. It becomes increasingly apparent that I need something outside of myself to help me...I am confused in every way about this. I don't know what could....Dawkins' God delusion makes some good points...institutionalized religion...uses techniques of group think...where everyone sorta' knows...but no one knows...but we're all confident on one thing...without really knowing anything. ...but who really knows anything at all?
I want to do good..but I confess that I feel like a stick in the mud...
perhaps I don't get filled with goodness from other people or from God...although I feel blessed....perhaps not known...or cared for...but blessed...I don't have a go to guy or gal....but I could go to some guys or gals...
vapid.
MY LIFE!
I'm becoming more self-indulgent...although I pray for people...I don't have that same...I don't know...fervor....I used to have...
YET
God spoke to me...I'm sure of it, and I'm almost completely sure it was because of my position as a lifegroup leader...
If not for that reason I don't know why.
God please melt my heart...help me to understand You in a greater sense...and help me to articulate myself...and help me most of all to love...and have a sense of justice....
Give strength to my friends...help them...
help those who don't know you...and
help us not to forget you or your ways.
I want to do good..but I confess that I feel like a stick in the mud...
perhaps I don't get filled with goodness from other people or from God...although I feel blessed....perhaps not known...or cared for...but blessed...I don't have a go to guy or gal....but I could go to some guys or gals...
vapid.
MY LIFE!
I'm becoming more self-indulgent...although I pray for people...I don't have that same...I don't know...fervor....I used to have...
YET
God spoke to me...I'm sure of it, and I'm almost completely sure it was because of my position as a lifegroup leader...
If not for that reason I don't know why.
God please melt my heart...help me to understand You in a greater sense...and help me to articulate myself...and help me most of all to love...and have a sense of justice....
Give strength to my friends...help them...
help those who don't know you...and
help us not to forget you or your ways.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
In the FACE!
As I feel I have just taken one to the chin today. I feel a great amount of release. It's like when you're in a fight, and you've been paranoid about getting hurt so you've just been dodging up to this point. Finally this guy lands one, and then you're not so afraid...and in fact you're a little pissed that you let him.
The other situation is that he lands one on you and you are so stunned that he just jumps on you and goes to town. That was me a few weeks ago...still slightly, but now a new area has opened up...a new place to be hurt and I've hurt not so deeply YET. It's a good thing to know that, and an even better one to prevent it from getting worse.
I can't explain how much I feel God when I'm under incredible stress. It harkens me back to the Believing Brain. Makes me doubt that faith...but it feels so real. I can't explain it...and I feel so much more alive. Yah, I feel like I'm dodging bullets everyday...but...when I'm not in this sort of situation...I feel miserable anyway...and now I feel really good despite having to work a bunch...may not feel that way in the morning...but I can't explain my feelings...and no I'm not high.
I'm more creative when I'm in trouble...that makes sense according to the information in the believing brain, because when a person is under more stress...the body apparently sees more patterns....even if they aren't apparent... so I can make more connections...even if they aren't apparent...in a way being an artist...is finding patterns and connections that aren't apparent...or ones that illustrate a concept...in a new way.....but make it understandable to the viewer....something brand new stating something old...but speaking understadably to an audience.
Art is finding a new pattern to an old truth, but giving that pattern the ability to speak to the populous.
hmmmm...I'ma a go think about things...well...actually I'ma go to bed :) Thanks God for another wonderful day...It was terrible...but so revitalizing...thank you for the bad. :)
The other situation is that he lands one on you and you are so stunned that he just jumps on you and goes to town. That was me a few weeks ago...still slightly, but now a new area has opened up...a new place to be hurt and I've hurt not so deeply YET. It's a good thing to know that, and an even better one to prevent it from getting worse.
I can't explain how much I feel God when I'm under incredible stress. It harkens me back to the Believing Brain. Makes me doubt that faith...but it feels so real. I can't explain it...and I feel so much more alive. Yah, I feel like I'm dodging bullets everyday...but...when I'm not in this sort of situation...I feel miserable anyway...and now I feel really good despite having to work a bunch...may not feel that way in the morning...but I can't explain my feelings...and no I'm not high.
I'm more creative when I'm in trouble...that makes sense according to the information in the believing brain, because when a person is under more stress...the body apparently sees more patterns....even if they aren't apparent... so I can make more connections...even if they aren't apparent...in a way being an artist...is finding patterns and connections that aren't apparent...or ones that illustrate a concept...in a new way.....but make it understandable to the viewer....something brand new stating something old...but speaking understadably to an audience.
Art is finding a new pattern to an old truth, but giving that pattern the ability to speak to the populous.
hmmmm...I'ma a go think about things...well...actually I'ma go to bed :) Thanks God for another wonderful day...It was terrible...but so revitalizing...thank you for the bad. :)
Monday, October 24, 2011
Help!
God! I need Your help.
this fits perfectly that I'd believe in you right now, because my world is spinning out of my hands. I have so much I need to get done, but I can't right now. I'm so freaked out....I don't know how to do anything. I'm exhausted and I can't get anything done. Maybe I shouldn't be an RA or maybe I can't do the art. I love art, but I can't do it anymore. I'm really tired...more perhaps more than ever before. they tell me I don't need good grades, but I feel like such a failure right now. How will I succeed in anything I can't meet deadlines. I can't...I'm too meticulous...I can't put things together....I'm not even creating real sentences right now...and I just wish I had a life like everyone else....I don't have time....maybe they don't either...but I'm really trying to get things done...I try my hardest. Maybe it's not good enough.
If you happen across this...pray...I want something...I need something...the conversations I have are meaningless and vain....I spent 4 hours thinking about a concept...but it doesn't work. It's probably pretty cliche...BUT I need to get it out.
this fits perfectly that I'd believe in you right now, because my world is spinning out of my hands. I have so much I need to get done, but I can't right now. I'm so freaked out....I don't know how to do anything. I'm exhausted and I can't get anything done. Maybe I shouldn't be an RA or maybe I can't do the art. I love art, but I can't do it anymore. I'm really tired...more perhaps more than ever before. they tell me I don't need good grades, but I feel like such a failure right now. How will I succeed in anything I can't meet deadlines. I can't...I'm too meticulous...I can't put things together....I'm not even creating real sentences right now...and I just wish I had a life like everyone else....I don't have time....maybe they don't either...but I'm really trying to get things done...I try my hardest. Maybe it's not good enough.
If you happen across this...pray...I want something...I need something...the conversations I have are meaningless and vain....I spent 4 hours thinking about a concept...but it doesn't work. It's probably pretty cliche...BUT I need to get it out.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Understanding
There are so many subjects I want to touch on.
There are so many things I wish I could say and so many ways I wish I could encourage others through my blogs...and notes on facebook, but it seems I can't stick to them. I don't have the perseverance to keep my mind on an idea right now...perhaps, because it is 2:58 am.
Regardless, I don't want to go to bed and I want to write, even though I'm tired.
I probably just need to vent. In these times conversation with God ensues. I thank Him for my blessings. I feel so blessed. Friends, I'm glad to know you, and please forgive me for using the same sentence structure continually.
Closeness beckons me. Physically, my position is farther from my friends than ever, and I end up doing things like watch their videos...or facebook stalk. Please forgive my actions in those regards, and see that it's more to know you than out of infatuation. I don't know if that makes it better.
It's different here. In my younger years I maintained this place, my parents home, as a hermitage. Closeness was a thing I longed for, yet it was so foreign that it allowed fear to dominate. Rare were the occasions of true friendship.
Time after time I would curse God for putting me in a position where I felt more alone than anything. That's part of my dialogue with the creator sometimes. My tongue is sharp, and more often than not I end up slitting myself with my own words.
This is a sort of raw outpouring of my thoughts. It's important...perhaps not for you...but it'll probably help...you...or me.
I'm longing for much from all of you, and more from myself. Finding Jesus is hard sometimes. Christ is with us, but sometimes you wouldn't know it. It's similar to the way you wouldn't pay attention to certain things that are taken for granted...or in the way you don't notice someone when you're mesmerized or in deep concentration. But I feel like I'm just in black right now... I can't explain...that sounds dark...and i suppose it is...but no worries.
Night comes. Sometimes.
Not all the time.
There's Jesus...but I couldn't point you in His direction, because it's dark.
Bible's a good place to look. Try talking to Him as well. Sing to Him. Ask people where they've seen Him.
My eyes are adjusting...but I feel void of light.
Perhaps I'm not looking for God at all.
John talked of Christ as a Light.
I know that.
Maybe that's some Light.
Maybe I'm just tired.
They're thoughts.
Don't pay them much head.
Christ's foundation in my heart is stronger than momentary fumblings.
Why?
Because it's real.
I don't feel like its real right now, but...it is.
I don't feel like thousands of people are being flooded by the Mississippi River, but they are.
Hopefully that is a good...metaphor for where I am with God.
Maybe I just feel like where I am is dark, but surprise! It is actually light lol :)
Goodnight.
Thanks for Reading :)
I appreciate you guys :)
There are so many things I wish I could say and so many ways I wish I could encourage others through my blogs...and notes on facebook, but it seems I can't stick to them. I don't have the perseverance to keep my mind on an idea right now...perhaps, because it is 2:58 am.
Regardless, I don't want to go to bed and I want to write, even though I'm tired.
I probably just need to vent. In these times conversation with God ensues. I thank Him for my blessings. I feel so blessed. Friends, I'm glad to know you, and please forgive me for using the same sentence structure continually.
Closeness beckons me. Physically, my position is farther from my friends than ever, and I end up doing things like watch their videos...or facebook stalk. Please forgive my actions in those regards, and see that it's more to know you than out of infatuation. I don't know if that makes it better.
It's different here. In my younger years I maintained this place, my parents home, as a hermitage. Closeness was a thing I longed for, yet it was so foreign that it allowed fear to dominate. Rare were the occasions of true friendship.
Time after time I would curse God for putting me in a position where I felt more alone than anything. That's part of my dialogue with the creator sometimes. My tongue is sharp, and more often than not I end up slitting myself with my own words.
This is a sort of raw outpouring of my thoughts. It's important...perhaps not for you...but it'll probably help...you...or me.
I'm longing for much from all of you, and more from myself. Finding Jesus is hard sometimes. Christ is with us, but sometimes you wouldn't know it. It's similar to the way you wouldn't pay attention to certain things that are taken for granted...or in the way you don't notice someone when you're mesmerized or in deep concentration. But I feel like I'm just in black right now... I can't explain...that sounds dark...and i suppose it is...but no worries.
Night comes. Sometimes.
Not all the time.
There's Jesus...but I couldn't point you in His direction, because it's dark.
Bible's a good place to look. Try talking to Him as well. Sing to Him. Ask people where they've seen Him.
My eyes are adjusting...but I feel void of light.
Perhaps I'm not looking for God at all.
John talked of Christ as a Light.
I know that.
Maybe that's some Light.
Maybe I'm just tired.
They're thoughts.
Don't pay them much head.
Christ's foundation in my heart is stronger than momentary fumblings.
Why?
Because it's real.
I don't feel like its real right now, but...it is.
I don't feel like thousands of people are being flooded by the Mississippi River, but they are.
Hopefully that is a good...metaphor for where I am with God.
Maybe I just feel like where I am is dark, but surprise! It is actually light lol :)
Goodnight.
Thanks for Reading :)
I appreciate you guys :)
Saturday, April 30, 2011
idee' fixe [Obsession]
Music History has done me a great deal of good over the past two semester, and one of the better things it did was introduce me to Hector Berlioz (1803-1869). Berlioz wrote the "Symphonie Fantastique" (1830), which was the first symphony to have a story connected with it. Inside his programs he wrote out a brief explanation of what was happening during each movement of the symphony, 5 in all.
Not fighting any cliches, the symphony starts off with a man passionately yearning for a particular woman. In the next movement he is at a ball with her, and then he's in the countryside fearing that his love is unrequited. Out of fear of rejection the man tries to kill himself with an overdose of opium, but he fails in his attempts. Tormenting Nightmares are the only result of his overdose, and a "March to the Scaffold" ensues. In his dream he has killed his beloved and is watching his own execution. In the final movement the protagonist watches his funeral, as it is swarmed by ghouls and witches. Eventually, the woman he loved comes and joins in with the mockery that the evil beings are making of his death.
A particular theme within the music is attached to the woman that the protagonist loves, and that theme Berlioz refers to as the idee' fixe, meaning fixed idea or obsession. This theme appears in every movement of the symphony. Life changes dramatically for this man throughout each movement, but there is a consistency to what the protagonist chooses to turn to. His obsession leads him to this woman, but there's something that changes in the 5th movement.
In the 5th movement the dignity of the theme is lowered, and it is now distorted. There is a discernible sameness to the theme, but comparing it to earlier themes is like comparing disease with good health.
I've been thinking about my own obsessions...what has been there in every part of my life? How have those things changed? How have I restored them to clarity or distorted them? What do I hear in my head through all situations?
I am convinced in my heart that there is no greater purpose than that which God has signed upon your heart. God has given gifts to each and every one of us...they are best used to build his kingdom.
In the Lord's purpose I find peace and I find rest. Grief and pain were the retinues for the man who was tormented by the idee' fixe in Berlioz's symphony. The woman he turned to for fulfillment ruled him completely, and her theme turned into something evil towards the end...perhaps revealing true colors...perhaps revealing the evil that goes along with such an obsession.
So as this year comes to an end and summer picks up...what is going to be the idee' fixe or obsession that plays in your head? Is it going to be that of unrequited love like in the "Symphonie Fantastique" or perhaps something else?
Truly, I pray it be that of the Lord's calling. That as we are going through troubles and hardships...or good times...that we have the song of the Lord on our lips for His tune is mightier and more glorious than any symphony and more restful and peaceful than any lullaby. His song strikes fear into His enemies and draws thankful hearts to Him. He remains the same, steady, righteous and we are incapable of grasping all of the Lord's character, power or love, but as we walk through the different movements of our lives Christ's theme is revealed in a different and more glorious way.
"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."
1 Corinthians 13:12
It may appear that now Christ is Lord and at other times He is Savior, but truly He is both. As God fulfills His promise to be Yahweh, the covenant keeping God, He shows us new dimensions of His fulfillment in our lives. Berlioz's idee' fixe had variations and changes while staying the same, yet God will not have such a thing. God will have truth making Him fixed in what He has told us of Himself, but if our obsession is Him He will come alive throughout our trials and joys in ways that we may have known to be His, yet not fully grasped or understood before. It is a side-effect of our condition as sinful people that we are not able to fully know or understand the God of the universe. Parts of His glory are shown to us, but not the fullness yet.
Christ's ability to fulfill my life has shown me that He is the only appropriate obsession.
Not fighting any cliches, the symphony starts off with a man passionately yearning for a particular woman. In the next movement he is at a ball with her, and then he's in the countryside fearing that his love is unrequited. Out of fear of rejection the man tries to kill himself with an overdose of opium, but he fails in his attempts. Tormenting Nightmares are the only result of his overdose, and a "March to the Scaffold" ensues. In his dream he has killed his beloved and is watching his own execution. In the final movement the protagonist watches his funeral, as it is swarmed by ghouls and witches. Eventually, the woman he loved comes and joins in with the mockery that the evil beings are making of his death.
A particular theme within the music is attached to the woman that the protagonist loves, and that theme Berlioz refers to as the idee' fixe, meaning fixed idea or obsession. This theme appears in every movement of the symphony. Life changes dramatically for this man throughout each movement, but there is a consistency to what the protagonist chooses to turn to. His obsession leads him to this woman, but there's something that changes in the 5th movement.
In the 5th movement the dignity of the theme is lowered, and it is now distorted. There is a discernible sameness to the theme, but comparing it to earlier themes is like comparing disease with good health.
I've been thinking about my own obsessions...what has been there in every part of my life? How have those things changed? How have I restored them to clarity or distorted them? What do I hear in my head through all situations?
I am convinced in my heart that there is no greater purpose than that which God has signed upon your heart. God has given gifts to each and every one of us...they are best used to build his kingdom.
In the Lord's purpose I find peace and I find rest. Grief and pain were the retinues for the man who was tormented by the idee' fixe in Berlioz's symphony. The woman he turned to for fulfillment ruled him completely, and her theme turned into something evil towards the end...perhaps revealing true colors...perhaps revealing the evil that goes along with such an obsession.
So as this year comes to an end and summer picks up...what is going to be the idee' fixe or obsession that plays in your head? Is it going to be that of unrequited love like in the "Symphonie Fantastique" or perhaps something else?
Truly, I pray it be that of the Lord's calling. That as we are going through troubles and hardships...or good times...that we have the song of the Lord on our lips for His tune is mightier and more glorious than any symphony and more restful and peaceful than any lullaby. His song strikes fear into His enemies and draws thankful hearts to Him. He remains the same, steady, righteous and we are incapable of grasping all of the Lord's character, power or love, but as we walk through the different movements of our lives Christ's theme is revealed in a different and more glorious way.
"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."
1 Corinthians 13:12
It may appear that now Christ is Lord and at other times He is Savior, but truly He is both. As God fulfills His promise to be Yahweh, the covenant keeping God, He shows us new dimensions of His fulfillment in our lives. Berlioz's idee' fixe had variations and changes while staying the same, yet God will not have such a thing. God will have truth making Him fixed in what He has told us of Himself, but if our obsession is Him He will come alive throughout our trials and joys in ways that we may have known to be His, yet not fully grasped or understood before. It is a side-effect of our condition as sinful people that we are not able to fully know or understand the God of the universe. Parts of His glory are shown to us, but not the fullness yet.
Christ's ability to fulfill my life has shown me that He is the only appropriate obsession.
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