It's As Though...
I can't write. When I sit to write an essay for school there is this faucet like happening that takes place in my mind. Stream of consciousness is probably a good term to describe it, and no I do not have ADD by the way. My thoughts don't stop until my paper is finished and I have typed twenty or more pages, usually gibberish (until proof read). During this outpouring I go into a sort of writers trance, I am oblivious to things around me, I can't focus on anything but what I am writing on. The feeling, if I can give you an image, is like holding your breath as you are tossed about in the ocean. Like the body, being tossed about gasping for air, so are my thoughts, trying to stop. This is a very welcoming feeling for me, it lets me know that I am normal, I can still write. This isn't happening for me anymore. I tried to keep myself occupied at the coffee shop the other day, so I got out my favourite pen and notebook and just penned out words, thoughts, phrases that came to mind; thingsthat would spark that normal feeling that I once had. A few words I jotted down are: pedestrian socialist collectiveness, piercingly chilly, bombastic, sub-surrealist melancholy, stripped esthetics-all words that stamped themselves into my memory as I read this certain novel.
I'm going out onto a crazy limb here in asking if it is ok to want to die, without being classified as insane or suicidal? I know, that is empty and shallow of me, inane perhaps. I am not a psychopath by any means, so please don't get any ideas. I am very tired, alittle weak, frusterated maybe, I don't know. What this world has to offer does not bring me satisfaction any longer. I have no want to continue, no desire. This all sounds berserk, I know. I'd rather have Jesus, than silver or gold. Please don't say "this too shall pass" "oh don't worry, the grass is greener on the other side" I don't want to hear it. This unsatsfaction will never pass, this desire to have all of Jesus won't diminish until I am with Him. This sin that I have carried with me for 10 years, will be there forever, my desire to live in a mountain cave in Tibet will never happen unless I magically turn into a goat.
It's ok though. Everyone has these days right? These winter seasons?
I can't write. When I sit to write an essay for school there is this faucet like happening that takes place in my mind. Stream of consciousness is probably a good term to describe it, and no I do not have ADD by the way. My thoughts don't stop until my paper is finished and I have typed twenty or more pages, usually gibberish (until proof read). During this outpouring I go into a sort of writers trance, I am oblivious to things around me, I can't focus on anything but what I am writing on. The feeling, if I can give you an image, is like holding your breath as you are tossed about in the ocean. Like the body, being tossed about gasping for air, so are my thoughts, trying to stop. This is a very welcoming feeling for me, it lets me know that I am normal, I can still write. This isn't happening for me anymore. I tried to keep myself occupied at the coffee shop the other day, so I got out my favourite pen and notebook and just penned out words, thoughts, phrases that came to mind; thingsthat would spark that normal feeling that I once had. A few words I jotted down are: pedestrian socialist collectiveness, piercingly chilly, bombastic, sub-surrealist melancholy, stripped esthetics-all words that stamped themselves into my memory as I read this certain novel.
I'm going out onto a crazy limb here in asking if it is ok to want to die, without being classified as insane or suicidal? I know, that is empty and shallow of me, inane perhaps. I am not a psychopath by any means, so please don't get any ideas. I am very tired, alittle weak, frusterated maybe, I don't know. What this world has to offer does not bring me satisfaction any longer. I have no want to continue, no desire. This all sounds berserk, I know. I'd rather have Jesus, than silver or gold. Please don't say "this too shall pass" "oh don't worry, the grass is greener on the other side" I don't want to hear it. This unsatsfaction will never pass, this desire to have all of Jesus won't diminish until I am with Him. This sin that I have carried with me for 10 years, will be there forever, my desire to live in a mountain cave in Tibet will never happen unless I magically turn into a goat.
It's ok though. Everyone has these days right? These winter seasons?