I've been flipping through a journal that must be college era, as it is covered in Kik Wear and Tooth & Nail stickers. On the first page, I'd scribbled Journal of Poetry & Thoughts. I've got to say, for 15+ years ago, there's some pretty interesting stuff in here.
I've never been afraid to have and voice my own thoughts, regardless of what may be expected of me. I'm reminded of this every time I look through old writing, whether it be fiction or poetry or journal entries from my teens and early twenties. I'm a very logical person, and think through things from a practical point of view before any thought is ever voiced. If someone isn't being practical and it directly affects me, I'm going to speak up for myself. This was interpreted in my Bible college days as "rebellion" (one reprimand for this very reason included a monetary fine). In the world I live in now, where I'm allowed to make adult decisions, I'm considered a conscientious human being. I think I can live with that.
Sanity is a new-found friend as my pen meets this paper. may all of the frustrations of life melt away in one escaping moment as I am gleefully trapped in my passion.
My weaknesses torture me; like an itch on the bottom of my foot when I have on my thickest socks and my tightest shoes.
REGRET. Powerful. So powerful. Something that you aren't aware of until it's staring you in the face and you can't close your eyes because it's too blinding. It's a jailer; it's the devil. It comes in so many forms: friendships, sex, glazed doughnuts. Once it's there, you can truly see what you should have done. And then, of course, you're out of time. Regret is probably one of the most fascinating things one could experience. Because it ends up being a cycle: you regret regret. A black hole, with no way out.
It's like a slap in the face
You make the truth a disgrace
Leave me out
Until you need me for a sermon illustration
Too bad there's more of me all over the place
Your underexposure to the real world
Isn't my problem
Hope you don't lose yourself
In your small mind
Nothing is more striking than the absence in your eyes
Nothing is more chilling than the passion in your lies
Nothing is more villianous than who you are inside
Nothing is more frightening than how easily you hide