I'm drunk. I'm too young to be drunk.
I'm too young to be drunk. I'm too tired to be awake. I'm too indifferent to be jealous. I'm too insensitive to write. But I am. I am all of these things. I'm DRUNK + TIRED ( - tired / young) + JEALOUS x Sicilian ( x Irish). And I am, of course, writing.
I'm not sure why, yet. Maybe because I feel guilty for all of these things that I am. Or, maybe, because I feel justified to be all of these things that I am. Maybe it's all in my head, and I just need to be alone. Or, maybe, I'm predisposed. In my blood. Like alcoholism. And I just need to be alone.
But I'm never alone. It's always so busy. People yelling and crying and vomiting and criticizing. I'm supposed to love the liars. I'm supposed to laugh with the hypocrites. I'm supposed to dance with the anonymous.
Well, maybe I'm writing as a question.
"Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, 'Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?' Jesus answered, 'I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.'"
I've given my seventy-seven. I've given seven times seventy-seven. To my mother. More to my father. To acquaintances. To some I pray I forget. To some I pray I won't...
Don't get me wrong. I've used my seventy-seven. From Christ. I've read of His grace, and His justness. I've heard of His unconditional love, and how easy all of Him is to receive. And still, I'm conflicted. Because I've also read of His rage. And I've been taught His discrimination.
He sits on my dash, staring in all His grace and love and judgment. I stare back, in all my filth and my sin, and I sing. I speak. I scream. I never cry. I just hate. I hate Him, and I hate me.
"Limousine [MS Rebridge]" - The Devil + God Are Raging Inside Me (2006) - Brand New
August 5, 2010
I'm too young to be drunk. I'm too tired to be awake. I'm too indifferent to be jealous. I'm too insensitive to write. But I am. I am all of these things. I'm DRUNK + TIRED ( - tired / young) + JEALOUS x Sicilian ( x Irish). And I am, of course, writing.
I'm not sure why, yet. Maybe because I feel guilty for all of these things that I am. Or, maybe, because I feel justified to be all of these things that I am. Maybe it's all in my head, and I just need to be alone. Or, maybe, I'm predisposed. In my blood. Like alcoholism. And I just need to be alone.
But I'm never alone. It's always so busy. People yelling and crying and vomiting and criticizing. I'm supposed to love the liars. I'm supposed to laugh with the hypocrites. I'm supposed to dance with the anonymous.
Well, maybe I'm writing as a question.
"Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, 'Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?' Jesus answered, 'I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.'"
I've given my seventy-seven. I've given seven times seventy-seven. To my mother. More to my father. To acquaintances. To some I pray I forget. To some I pray I won't...
Don't get me wrong. I've used my seventy-seven. From Christ. I've read of His grace, and His justness. I've heard of His unconditional love, and how easy all of Him is to receive. And still, I'm conflicted. Because I've also read of His rage. And I've been taught His discrimination.
He sits on my dash, staring in all His grace and love and judgment. I stare back, in all my filth and my sin, and I sing. I speak. I scream. I never cry. I just hate. I hate Him, and I hate me.
"Limousine [MS Rebridge]" - The Devil + God Are Raging Inside Me (2006) - Brand New
August 5, 2010
