Wednesday, October 18, 2006


What do you do when you feel like everything is going wrong? All you can do is just let it happen. Nothing seems like it will ever be the same again. You question yourself, others, and, worst of all, God. God wants something from you, but you have no clue what that is. You don't even know where to begin fixing any of it. Controlling the situation is impossible, because it's gotten so far out your reach. No one's telling you what to do, or what not to do, so you place these boundaries on yourself that restrain you to a little box in which you can't move, breathe, or even really think.

What do you do?

I broke down. That's what I did last week. I didn't know what else to do; my mind, body, and soul didn't know what else to do.

Why do we do this to ourselves? It can be avoided, but do we ever really understand what the consequences of any of our actions are? It's nearly impossible to determine. Maybe there is a point at which we get a feeling that something may not turn out for the best if an action is not ceased; however, how often do we listen to that feeling? And can not everything be misconstrued or twisted the wrong way? At what point does it change from being our own fault to someone else's for taking it incorrectly? Does it ever? Is it still our fault because we are responsible for others' faiths? Possibly just as responsible for our own?

There's another thing that I do not know. Along with so many others. And I hate not knowing. I hate being in the dark. I hate not knowing where I stand.

Am I afraid of being let loose? Honestly, I like to have guidelines. Restrictions. Maybe that's why I put so many on myself. Although sometimes I have the urge to do something completely unexpected, maybe even on the edge of being beyond what is accepted. By who is irrelevant. But what is this feeling of suffocation that I feel? I believe it is my own walls closing in, because I don't know how far I can go.

And that bothers me to no end.

How far can I go? Where does it start? Where do I stop?

Who will tell me when I get there?

Tuesday, October 10, 2006


Magnum, who passed away last night. I don't know exactly how old he was, but I know he was between six and eight. Although he wasn't the brightest dog we've ever had, he was definitely one of the sweetest. I miss him, but it won't really hit me until I go home again and only see Sandy waiting for me in the driveway.