"If there was no way into God, I would never have laid in this grave of a body for so long."

That must be the truest statement of my life. If my life didn't have a purpose, and I didn't really have a creator who loved me, and when I died, I was just going to disappear: then forget it. I'm just going to cut to the chase. Because living here is so freaking hard sometimes. There are moments of such intense beauty--where I feel like I could just be sustained by all that is around me. But then there is such decay. I hate everything in this world. And sometimes I really resent being commanded to love. And I drive down streets, past the houses of dead friends, and I can hardly breathe, and just have to focus on keeping my eyes open. I hate it. Because really, I'm the dead one. No one hates me. Fine, that's really great. It's better that they don't even care. It's better that I could not even exist and it wouldn't affect them. That is such bullshit. How can my whole life and all the time I spent with them not mean anything? How can they not even care? Not even enough to talk to me. Not even enough to look me in the eye.

I'm just glad I don't have to deal with that everyday anymore or I'd probably just kill myself anyway. Wouldn't that be great.

I'm sorry for the cuss word. I don't cuss. I honestly sat here for a long time trying to think of another word but truely couldn't.


- posted by Jonathan@ 4:14 PM