Looking for an Update? Look somewhere else

Perhaps now is as good a time as any.  Or maybe the best time.  The time when these thoughts are still near fresh on the frontal lobe of my mind.

I wonder, if I received news that my brain was deteriorating or my life would soon be fading, would it have meant anything?  So often I get stuck living with a hope for another day.  I think maybe I'll do better things when I have increased my knowledge.  Or perhaps my life will feel more meaningful when I am surrounded by friends and family.  But what about this life I live between walls?  Has it any meaning?  Has there been a purpose to it?  Has it even had an impact on what's outside?

I feel like a hammer gathering dust in a shed.  My handle shines new but feels worn instead.  Rust is the cover of my entire head.  The rest of me covered in a rarely disturbed red.  I want to be used but I just sit on the shelf.  I sit inside and hope for something to push me.  How can I be pushed further if I'm standing against a solid wall?

It's like I've lost connection or perhaps the desire for it.  But I know that I deeply desire it.  What's happening inside me?  Sometimes this just makes the interactions more difficult.  I'm not sure who I've become.  I'm lazier than when I would sleep away the days.  I want something more but know that I have it all.  Is it that I want outside my lot?  I look around and see what I have and what I don't need.  What's happened to the one who ran freely outside?  Am I dreaming the wrong dreams?  Am I just living for me?

Some days I feel desperate for something outside of me but I don't seek it.  So can that be true desperation?  Am I gasping for air?  I want someone here.  Without it, life gets boring.  But how selfish can I be that I let myself slip into boredom while the world hungers without end?  So I feel guilty and don't have a cure.  Maybe because I'm looking to myself for it.  Part of me believes a part of the cure can be to help others find theirs but I know that can't be all of it.  Thinking that that is my only antidote will just start me working again.  Working to achieve that which is unachievable by my own ability.

So I just want to sit under Your tree.  The Tree that is You.  I want to stay with You but I want so bad to be moving.  To be living.  To experience what life seems to be.  Is it because I'm looking through Your branches?  Because I'm looking to see the lives You've given others?  Or perhaps part of it is that with these windows of technology people only allow me to see of them what they would like.  So I imagine their lives are perfect, or something so nice, when really they're struggling just like me.

Could You maybe show me how lives can be boring?  Or how to make this exciting?  I want to explore what You've given me here.  I want to use what You've given to the full extent.  I feel that I'm just wasting it.  I don't want to waste it.  Please show me what to do with this life.  Still, I know You're not a pop machine, so Your will be done.  None of this is my choice or I would be dead and gone.  I would like to know what my next steps are.  Where I should go.  What I should do.  And I know You'll answer my questions, but who am I to ask You?

Still I can't help but feel You're working.  Even here.  Even now.

Connection Without Cables

The Internet has turned us all into sponges.  We'll soak up all the information that we want.  We're free to keep searching and discovering the things that please us.  But what of the things that we fear?  What of that which we disagree with?  What of the new?  There is so much new but it is also so easy to limit ourselves to what we like.

Some days the world would be better without it.  Some days I just want to go back to connection without cables.  What happened to that?  I don't mean wireless Internet or mobile phones.  I mean touching hands and grasping fingertips.  What happened to the days where the only way to get to know someone was to be among that person?  Now we can learn so much about a person just by following their digital trail.  But how much do we really know?  In this world of self-disclosure we can choose what the world sees of us.

I don't want to be locked inside my computer.  I don't want to be tangled in wires and cables.  And the irony is that I write this on a public journal for all to see.  But I do not mind.  I want to be found.  Found doing something that matters.  Found dancing among the storm that surrounds me.  I won't ignore the rain nor pretend it's not there.  I'll just teach it how to dance.  I'll show the world romance.  It's not found in pushing buttons.  It's not found in hearing voices.  It's found when the soul rejoices.

I want love to reign supreme.  To see it flow far from this stream.  To feel someone help me, I'm about to scream.  I want a surprise.  I want a dream.

But I don't want it on this screen.  I don't want to hide this scene.

Still, somehow I'm entangled within an invisible seam.  I'm the product of things I've seen.  I'm a product of the generation of green screen.  The world says no one will believe the things I have seen unless I give proof and explain what I mean.

But I don't need proof.  Am I not the one living this life?  There is something between my ears and I believe it is working.  This life isn't mine though I live it.  I don't often shake hands but I shiver.  I live inside and I quiver.  The world outside is intangibly mine.  It's as if it whirls 'round and I can't make a sound.  I keep my feet on the ground and am inevitably found as a spot on a sheet on a hospital bed.

So if you cannot read the thoughts in my head and if you've no choice but to hear them, I hope you'll heed well these words that I tell for I have nothing left but to say them.  If life be a race, then I'm running with scissors.  I can't tell where I'm going and too often I've missed her.  So now live upside-down.

Sincerely,
     Mister