October 8, 2009

(title unknown)

I feel like I'm living my life outside-in. I do everything and think nothing. When my friends ask how I am, I give them a laundry list of my most recent tasks. When they ask what I'm thinking about, I tell them about my essay. This is not real thinking.

I feel like I'm living in a daze. When our Student Guides meeting was starting today (happiness!) I was startled to hear laughing and talking coming in our door. Our home is not usually very loud. I seem to not think about how I act or what I say before I say it. It's strange, but not unfamiliar.

I (I again. I'm going to stop this.) My (a little better, perhaps? More variety at least...) phone skills have quite improved, and I was able to call a possible platform today. It may work out, it may not.

See? Again what is written is about my actions, and not my mind. It seems that real thinking has not happened for a while. (Avoiding writing "I" is hard.) It's hard to determine if my presentation of myself is accurate, if my friends are seeing who I (unavoidable) am. I'll stop the censorship of my selfishness. How ironic, my Voice of Democracy essay is centered on selfishness, and how it prevents us from appreciating America's heroes.

I feel inexplicably sad and wistful right now. I don't know why. I don't understand myself. I deeply desire to go outside by myself and run around in the park. Only, the park is closed at dark and I'm not usually allowed out alone at night, even though our town is safe. I wish one of you were here with me and would walk with me underneath the cloudy, New Jersey sky, where most stars are hidden and where the roads we make our sidewalks are constantly interrupted by cars.

It's getting cold. I wonder if I like autumn. Today was beautiful, simply beautiful. It saddens me that my productivity level drops so dramatically when I go outside to work. That's why I didn't go out today. I feel drawn to the outdoors- the music of eternity is louder there. I laugh internally because I like the way I wrote that.

I am often hesitant to post because I have so many loyal readers. I feel as if it's a let-down when I post little insignificant self-indulgent things. I wish I could think without thinking about myself. I wish I could write intelligently without using the first person.

I've written quite a lot already, and I'm feeling ashamed. This is not right,because shame and insecurity and sadness have died! Do I forget so easily? Why does my gaze stray from His? How can I come to God without feeling as if I come for my own satisfaction and fulfillment, rather than His pleasure? I wonder if it will feel like eavesdropping for you if I write anything more.

(now go be amused at the title of this post, it's like being busy and writing "Invisible" as your status message.)

4 comments:

Hayley said...

Yes, yes, yes, to all of this. Especially this: "I wish I could think without thinking about myself."

I'm filled with "do" and am less of "be." I'm all random thoughts and listless hopes, and checklists and anticipation. Not sad, just impatient.

"I feel as if it's a let-down when I post little insignificant self-indulgent things." And you'd think that it would be a let down, right? It's not. I love it. I wonder why that is. I can't in good conscience urge more self-indulgent posting for my own sake, but if that's any motivation . . . :p

ah, I am such an abuser of words today!

Lis said...

"I wish one of you were here with me and would walk with me underneath the cloudy, New Jersey sky, where most stars are hidden and where the roads we make our sidewalks are constantly interrupted by cars."

=) I'd be there in a heartbeat. One day... ?

Lis said...

Wait... I just commented on a blog post!

:email:

Micah E. said...

"I feel drawn to the outdoors- the music of eternity is louder there." This is incredibly poetic, I like how you said that.

I think it's autumn, or the business that comes with autumn, because I'm also not doing a lot of thinking. Or, I am, but it's harder to think about what I'm thinking.