Sunday, April 22

I'm a Bad Best Friend.

right now i have this feeling that i hate. it seems to come up from time to time (more rare anymore) where i cannot remember what i wanted to write about. on the way to panera bread this morning...around noon, for the bbfyc meeting i had an idea going thru my head. and now, when i feel like writing - i can't remember.
everyone has a time when they need to vent. i'm not sure why i choose to do it here rather than where no one will see it. perhaps it's because i think that my opinion is worth hearing. i supposedly have that right. and i'm not making you read this. we all see thing we'd like to change and we've all had times when we feel that we cannot say them. i feel like saying them. so, as it comes...

i feel like don miller as he talks about living with hippies and feeling real, unconditional love by them - more so than w/ his christian friends.
i talked to my friend justin about this and he knew what i meant. there was a time when we had that and i remember when we lost it. unshared feelings and jealous rage. people were hurt and it ended. a few of us tried to keep it going but no one else was into it. too many of us have been burned and have drawn back into our caves. sticks are shaken and people chased off.
i want people i can trust. i want a friend i can just lie w/ in the grass and talk to. i hate everything feeling so business-like.
sometimes i come home and just want to scream because i don't understand why people can be so arragant and self-absorbed. i wish people could get over themselves and stop complaining because they have to do something that they have to do. it's just not fun anymore. drama surrounds us.

i've missed north carolina more and more. it's funny actually. when i lived there it was pretty unenjoyable. it was a very awkward time for me. i felt completely alone except for sara. she's fine and all - she's more than fine. but i needed more. i expected to have all of these people and whenever i called they weren't home.
but when i visit, it is wonderful. i see everybody or at least the majority, and we sit in the grass and talk. we may disagree in our political and religous views but we can get deeper than that. we all have something in common there is a genuine care between those kids.
on a side note:
i think that's my beef w/ christians. so many just see things at face value. so many people look at something and judge it in one second. they don't look to see the point of it. they don't even look to see what they could do to improve it. christians want everything to be perfect and it's not. i'm fed up w/ christian music so much that i would flat say i hate it. there are always exceptions, but they've all broken up or moved more mainstream. i feel like there is no sense of artistic creativity in the christian community and that is why i do not like it. if what we have is so wonderful and holy then why aren't we making the most beautiful art? i don't understand it and i'm not seeing it.
there's a loss of humanity anymore. feeling compassion and wanting to do something about it is so rare anymore. even if it goes against your political range, why can't you understand and actually see what's happening? why are some issues even political? Jesus' whole thing was love and here we are just not caring. i wish i were more into helping people.


we don't just talk anymore. i don't know what's on your mind and on your heart. sometimes if i try and ask you make me feel dumb. i'm not that upset about moving come fall. part of me can't wait to start over. i don't want to be stuck in this small town eating at the same restuarant for years to come. i hope i'm gone and doing what i want - and i hope you are too.


personally, i wish i were a better person. i know i could be. i could care more and be more dependable. i could do my homework before the night it's due. i could spend less time watching television and go outside. i could make a difference, i know. i wonder what people think about me. could someone i know write an entry about things i do? probably.
blog comments powered by Disqus