So what are u setting the stage for?

For some reason I felt really deflated just now

Gosh this really is becoming a place to complain about the weariness of life

Right now im struggling with two sentiments, one of fatalism, one of apprehension of life, neither of which I know is very Christian

Part of me is hoping that like some cheap greecian theatre, God will somehow appear in the midst and everything will turn out right
Deux Ex MAchina, it sounds cooler than the idea it Actually suggests....

The is still humor in the world,
It's just that the time between laughter seems to be dragging long and thin

sometimes I just wish I could it burst out laughing, or cry uncontrollably,
I think both acts while not particular to humans, is probably the most humane in our repertoire.

I think of the emotions, I find resignation and despair the most beautiful, well mYbe relief makes it to top 3 as well

Don't get me wrong, im not masochistic, or sadistic (contrary to popular belief)
It's just that other sentiments are just so fickle and easily shaded by circumstance and mood

Despair cuts straight through our mental and emotive walls,
The hollow pit in our stomach, the crushing weight of reality
The utter bleakness of it's countenance....

I think maybe Gods love is a lot like despair
In how we dont really feel it per say but are consumed by it, nearly crushed by it

If despair is so present it transcends feeling,(IMO despair is more an experience than a feeling)
Resignation probably is one of the most subtle

I think its feels so much like apathy that though the common expression of resignation in literature is that of a sigh, and a shrug, and a deflated posture,
I think it's a sigh we feel the least

It's not strange I guess that relief follows these two closely, if it does at all

Perhaps it's strength as a sentiment arises from the magnitude of the formers
Sometimes so powerful, it takes days for it to register

Ive been moody alot lately, I wouldnt lie by saying i totally have no idea why,
I do know why in parts, but they just dont seem to add up to enough to justify how fustrated i feel

perhaps the weariness of life is getting to me
perhaps the humors are out of balance

met up with an old church friend, well the term "ex-church" friend is more accurate actually
and i realised through him how many of us whom i thought settled down somewhere arent so settled anymore

perhaps when we left, we left our hearts behind

but there isnt anywhere to go back to
or at least isnt much to go back to
being a nomad is wearying

sometimes i just feel like running
well more figuratively anyways
physics tells us that if we run fast enough, we'd eventually leave the earth
i think that'd be nice
to float around in empty vastness and not have to bother about all the shit thats down below

a friend told me that he has started to doubt
and asked how do we know that wad we believe in, that which has been distilled over time
is in fact the truth or if the truth has be lost through all that merciless boiling
let me get it clear, he didnt stop being a theist, he was doubting the collective tradition of christianity that we have today

i didnt get a chance to answer him then
but for my own sake i shall attempt to here

well let me start of saying from a intellectual standpoint
we dont
thats the whole postmodernist bent
we have no absolute proof
all the stuff that people went around giving lectures on to disprove dan brown
well they did have more grounds than a fictional story perhaps
but yes, the dead sea scrolls though a brilliant archaelogical find could very well be a hoax by some  16th century artist just as how the shroud of turin is now thought to be.

so where do we go from there
well we start from a standpoint where believe that Gods is real, and he is good, and he is loving
(be it from personal experience or whatever means of getting there) (of course we believe in his omnipotence and omniscience and so on....)

and for a moment, just a moment (although these moments are far too frequent for me)
lets assume that the stuff they preach in church is misguided misinformation, truth passed down through centuries and warped alongst the way by impotent men who saw to it to color it as they pleased.

well faith is trusting God to speak out of the chaos
and if we believe that God is real and still works,
we believe that he will redeem his word, and his church (although i grimace as i type this)
faith is believing that God will still let Himself be heard above the noise and the subjectiveness of the clergy


i guess faith is also trusting God to find us a home
and to deal with all the angst

It's scary really,
How we get so used to our bindings and fetters,
And let our dreams and hopes shrivel up inside

Do our chains become part of us,
Our weaknesses and faults making up a bigger slice of our ego than we dare admit

Soar, fly? With all this dead weight of past failures, social constructs,and responsibilities?

Sometimes I think I begin to think I understand wad the old one meant when she said God allows our dreams to die before fulfilling them
There's no way we could with what we are, with so much dead flesh still alive

I've asked so many times why I'm still here, when I want so much to out and leave,
Could the metaphysical really intersect with the unpleasant and the mundane?
Could the kingdom come in the midst of all this?

Jesus asked Saint Peter "do you love me?"
His reply was in effect, only as a friend

Im beginning to realize how much I identify with that,
And I'm a lousy friend at that

I've got another confession to make

I'm your fool

Everyone's got their chains to break

Holdin' you



Were you born to resist, or be abused?



Is someone getting the best

The best, the best, the best of you?

Is someone getting the best

The best, the best, the best of you?



Or are you gone and onto someone new?



I needed somewhere to hang my head

Without your noose

You gave me something that I didn't have

But had no use

I was too weak to give in

Too strong to lose



My heart is under arrest again

But I'll break loose

My head is giving me life or death

But I can't choose

I swear I'll never give in

I refuse



Is someone getting the best

The best, the best, the best of you?

Is someone getting the best

The best, the best, the best of you?



Has someone taken your faith?

It's real, the pain you feel

You trust, you must confess



Is someone getting the best

The best, the best, the best of you?



Has someone taken your faith?

It's real, the pain you feel

The life, the love

You'd die to heal

The hope that starts

The broken hearts

You trust, you must confess



Is someone getting the best

The best, the best, the best of you?

Is someone getting the best

The best, the best, the best of you?



I've got another confession my friend

I'm no fool

I'm getting tired of starting again

Somewhere new



Were you born to resist, or be abused?

I swear I'll never give in, I refuse



Is someone getting the best

The best, the best, the best of you?

Is someone getting the best

The best, the best, the best of you?

Has someone taken your faith?

It's real, the pain you feel

You trust, you must confess



Is someone getting the best

The best, the best, the best of you?

why i wont become an anglican

to put it in one word
tradition

perhaps this is the anti-institutional, anti-establishment part of me rearing its ugly head
but yes
part of me just shudders at the idea of the amount of authority we assign to concepts and practices that people develop and pass down through the ages

i mean granted, men though lacking intelligence in general do come up with practices and ideals that should be passed down for posteriety

but the church has done some nasty things in the name of tradition

we insisted that the earth was flat, and perscuted people speaking in tongues in the name of tradition
heck, if we wanted to be purist, we would have stuck with the catholic church of england,

even now, part of me wonders how in the name of tradition we can embrace gender inequality and racial lines

primes

been trying to squeeze in more reading now since my holidays started

ive realised ive got a particular weakness for fiction with subtle hints at mathematics
though the mathematics involved is often non-existant or distant limited to the characters professions.

anyways just recently read through a book called the solitude of prime numbers
quite a nice quainty story on broken, lonely people who are attracted to each other

i loved how the author toyed around with the idea of twin primes, how they exist in the infinity that is the contium of integers, and how such lonely numbers can be so close to each other, yet seperated for ever and ever

i guess 23 is a really lonely number since it is the smallest prime number barring 2 and 3, which is not part of a twin prime pair......

i figure if people were integers, we'd all be really lonely
since there is an uncountable infinity of reals between any two of us,
i figure that is probably true even if we arent integers

we'll always have an infinity of time and space between any two of us.