Fragments: Self-Analysis 1

I wish I was even more ready to move on. I am half-way there, at the moment. I see my parents' life, and it is that future I fear. I want no part of it, but fear as well the uncertainty of finding my own way. I find myself stuck here in the middle, as always. As usual, I am consigned to the fringes, the in-between places, the margins. I just can't seem to write between the lines. I once said that I was the page that spit back the ink printed on it. But now I realize that my true position is that of the words that fail to make it to the page. I am the unpublished novel, the unperformed concerto, the unrevealed painting. I am the unspoken "I love you," "I do," and "Goodbye," all rolled into one. I am a Christ still unresurrected on the fourth day.

Fragments: Confession to a Beloved

God forbid your heart be given to me. My hands, too indelicate in grasping your heart, will break it so. I cannot catch a heart thrown thus... it will slip bleeding from my grasp.

You are lovely, lovelier than I can stand. I hold you close to hear your heartbeat sing my praises. You are an ornament on my arm, an accessory that accentuates my aura. My vanity, assuaged, will drown us all in unhappiness and dissatisfaction.

Nonsensical Rambling: Wierd Dream 1 (From a while back)

starcraft-based dream

earthquake owned the nation

everybody who had been north of the fault line turned into zombies

jerry chen and alan were in the dream

alan was on a praise team

religion had become meaningless

we were trying to get to the northwest

good amount of still-healthy people

people turned to pleasure in that grim time

we pondered the meaninglessness of pleasure

Bible was very heavy; handles attached to covers, weighed me down

one obstacle was a very long, narrow house

it was a creepy, decrepit maze

we saw through the lie, and i used superhuman strength to just charge through the walls

military were mutant zealots (zombies)

their friendliness was fickle

Final Rant About The Girl I Love

She is: smart, funny, capable, independent, cute, hot, hard-working, and fun-loving.  She takes her faith seriously.  She is not a sister to me.  She is my ideal woman.  She makes me smile when I look at her, but frown because she's not mine.  For what has literally been years, I have been content to have her happy, even if that happiness is not with or because of me.  But I feel my star rising again.  The time will soon come when I will see myself as worthy-- her best possible option.  Given all this, I fear that I admire her wrongly.

Those qualities I listed about her are not bad; they are indeed admirable.  Rather, my attraction to her is suspect precisely because I like her for fulfilling my ideal.  If I'm honest, I have to admit that I don't know her.  I don't.  I really don't.  I don't know most of her likes and dislikes.  I don't know most of her tendencies and preferences.  I don't know exactly her life's calling or even her tentative plans.  I don't know at all what day her period comes.

Suddenly, her place in my memory becomes clear, and all I really know of her is from moments in the past.  Our relationship is most accurately described as people that are acquaintances but, for whatever reason, interact like old friends.  Suddenly, I am afraid that our shared upbringing counts for nothing, and even more that we are truly strangers and fated to remain so.

I absolutely hate unrequited love-- I believe it foolish.  I remain open to any other possibility, but I find myself comparing every other girl to her.  This situation is so unjust to those individuals; I find myself unable to ignore the fact that, no matter what other exceptional qualities they may exhibit, not one of them is her.

This is the image that prompted a 20-ish post thread on Google Buzz amongst my connections on there.  We started with frown emoticons, moping (somewhat in jest) about the matter.  At some point, a friend of mine posted, "I think the lesson here is that we're all doomed."  I responded to her statement with, "Better to have loved and lost, than never loved at all?  Thank God for singular intersections!  You can't say you're doomed to lovelessness until you're single and literally at the end of the line... What are we again?  23?"  The original poster, an acquaintance of mine, responded with: "Wait... we were talking about relationships?"  To which I replied, "That's what I contextualized it to, as all my other relationships have been (relatively) ossum."

To that statement, there are several likely responses. A: "Well, we know what's on Ezra's mind."  B: "Well, lucky you."  C: "Why do you say that?"  I will answer the person that asks Option C.

Romance has been the only context  in which I've experienced relationships as once or never, and not as forever.  Not in friendship have I lost people through such finality as the burned bridges between me and my old flames.  That's why my friendships are so much better-- I've never perceived them as straight lines that precluded rekindling.  The lines have always been intertwined along jagged, looped, and twisted paths.

Even so, reconciliation is not out of the question, even for those painful people from my past.  By God's grace, we'll be good again.