Squirrel!

I’m sitting at the dining room table with a yellow highlighter and a black pen in the same hand. In my periphery Charlie sits down by the back door, intent on something behind me.

There are days in the fall when you just feel alive. The leaves are the color of fire and they make a crunching sound beneath your feet. The sun shines down and warms your skin even as the breeze brings hints of the cold to come. Everything seems new and you can’t help but notice everything that moves.

Continue reading “Squirrel!”

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If You Aren’t Learning You Aren’t Living

I said this to someone this morning who came through the line at the Credit Union. It was followed by the advice that if you ever find yourself bored and not learning anything anymore for whatever reason; quit your job, take a trip, get a new job, whatever, just go learn something.

She said she was 17. I hope she takes my advice. Because I didn’t – haven’t. I keep telling myself that I just need to pay off my loans, my debts, but where does that get me?

You know, I have plans. So many plans. So many dreams. Right now I’m learning where I’m at. Sooner or later I may get bored and no longer be learning enough at INterra, and I’ll endeavor to take my own advice and move on… to keep learning.

I never want it to be said ever again that “she lived a safe, quite, and unobtrusive life” I want it to be said that “she lived a life of adventure and passion, and learned and knew so much.”

I’d much rather be a Baggins than a Took.

I Sputter

Sometimes I don’t know why I have this blog, it’s just not something I’ve been able to be consistent with, no matter what I want to do, no matter how hard I try. Do  you ever feel like you aren’t passionate enough about something to actually be doing it?

I don’t know how much of this is my depression talking, but I’m feeling that way now. I see how passionate other people are and I feel broken. I feel like I’m incapable of being passionate about anything. Of feeling those emotions.

I lack motivation. I lack the will to do things. I try to write and I just start to wither at the thought of creating. I try to speak about what’s got me so frustrated and all I can come up with is “It doesn’t matter, I’m fine, leave me alone.”

I feel like I’m fighting a monster, and that monster is me. I don’t laugh like I wish I could. I don’t sing and dance. I don’t take joy out of most anything. I feel like I miss the beauty in the world.

The only reason I keep trying is that once every while I get passionate for just a little bit. Last Christmas it was about C.S. Lewis. A little before that I had this strange obsession with Alexandre Dumas and the Three Musketeers. Myart takes over for a few hours once in a while. My writing too. But, most of the time I feel like I’ll never experience those things again, until I do.

I feel broken until I don’t.

Sometimes the brokenness is barely noticeable and I can almost convince myself that it isn’t there. That I’m just another cog in the machine. I feel two dimensional, but at least I don’t feel broken, I don’t feel like something is missing.

I live for the bursts of passion that spark through my life.

They’re like an engine that won’t quite catch. I cough and choke, and sputter and try to get all the pistons and spark plugs working as one, firing together. Striving for that glorious rumble that signals the journey’s start.

I’m not Feeling Well so Here’s What’s Happening in my Head because I am Incapable of True Creativity when I Feel like This

I don’t feel well tonight, decided not to go to a Kid’s Ministry Meeting because of it but I don’t want to sleep. It’s been a while since I posted anything here so I figure it’s time for a thought dump.


For the last two or three days I’ve been in this fog. I went to the county fair both Friday and Saturday. Friday to treat my mom for her birthday, and Saturday I went to the demolition derby with friends.

I do not understand the attraction of watching a bunch of cars crash into each other on purpose. I watched one girl get carried off the track and put into an ambulance, and I watched one vehicle completely burst into flames. Then a few others just smoke so much that you couldn’t see the field. Watching the crowd was even worse. They enjoyed the brutal crashes and the things that might possibly kill a person more than I could understand and when we were waiting for them to pull the girl from her car to get her unconscious body into an ambulance they were speculating about whether or not she were going to be missing limbs or how bad she was hurt as if it were just another evening’s entertainment, a scripted part of the show.

For one thing, I didn’t realize how many demolition derby fans we had in this county. For another I apparently just don’t have enough red neck in me to enjoy that sort of thing. I just kept flashing back to the one not so bad car accident I had. I lived, the car is still running, and you can’t even tell it was in an accident, but my creative brain has an ability to latch onto details as well as enough knowledge of physics that the scenario can play out a thousand and one terrifying and brutally violent things that could have happened instead of what did happened.

And all I could really think about, watching the crowd and watching the cars crash into each other was about the Romans, whom I’ve been researching for a story I’ve been brainstorming. It reminded me so much of the whole bread and circuses thing at the end of the Roman Empire. Especially when the announcer/referee guy used the word Gladiator to describe the cars. That was exactly what it was. It was a gladiator arena and the people watching seemed to have lost all sense of the world outside of the destruction in front of them.

The world has been bothering me a lot lately. There are so many thins that are just plain wrong with it. People are dying, being refused help, refusing help, hurting each other for no reason, oppressing and being just generally unkind towards others for no reason other than that they can.

I turn on the news and all I see is people bashing one another, politicians trying to cover up one scandal or another, people complaining about situations but not doing anything about them.

I hear and see so many hypocritical points of view. All I want to do it lose myself in a gladiator style battle, and forget for a little while about all of these problems, but God didn’t make me with that ability. Instead, He made me with a brain that latched on to just about everything and remembers it like nobody’s business.

I got a new job finally. I’m out of the one that was trying to kill me and I’m in a better one now, but I’m still confused and frustrated by so many things. The world makes me angry.

I’m on meds now that are helping me to make sense of my emotions, and I’m getting better at being an adult and that is making me restless. I feel like I should be doing more, but I also feel like I’m just not passionate enough, like I lack the confidence to function beyond my current lot in life. It feels almost like I’ve given in to the bread and circus lie – just not the same way as everyone else.

In Kids church this summer we’ve been talking about confidence – living like you believe what God says is true. I mean, actually living it, speaking out about it, acting on your faith instead of keeping things quiet and to yourself.

Maybe it’s just because I don’t feel well right now, but this lack of confidence in anything makes me frustrated with myself. I’ve had more than one person I know completely quit writing, art, creating in general. There are people I know from high school who were incredibly talented artists and they don’t create anymore.

I hae friends who are having kids with guys that don’t love them, or only pretend to love them, they’re drinking, probably getting high, doing things that are just generally damaging to their physical and mental health, people who had such bright futures who are throwing it all away.

Then there are the ones that are moving forward with their lives in a positive direction. I feel like people look at them and then look at me and just think I’ve stalled out. Yet again, probably the not feeling well thing talking there, but it’s a genuine concern of mine.

You know, I don’t really know what I want to do with my life. I have plans and scenarios, but I feel very lonely in all of them because so few people hear them and think that they’re good ideas or plausible ideas. I feel like I’ve fallen into that “stable job” trap.

Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy my day job. It’s a great place to work and I need to pay my bills so why not enjoy it while I do?

I don’t even know where this is going anymore.

Long story short: I don’t feel well, I’m uncomfortable with the world and where it’s going. I’m working on a story that’s turning into a straight up commentary on the world that makes me uncomfortable, and I’m creating other things again, drawing and painting.

On top of all that, I feel like even though I’m going somewhere creatively I feel as though I’m missing passion and direction. I’m missing the confidence to go forward. And right now, I can’t do anything about it…

This has been my thought dump.

It’s Raining Right Now and This isn’t What I Sat Down to Write

Rainstorms are reassuring. Especially on Monday.

While I still work in the garden center it’s even better because I know that there won’t be too many people looking for plants. If there are any I’ll be shocked. they probably won’t be looking for power equipment either. That means I will have some down time, quiet time, to gather my thoughts and make the department look less like a war zone and more like a store.

But, this week it just doesn’t feel the same. Some things are happening at work that I won’t go into detail about but I’m less and less enthusiastic with this day job as events continue to unfold.

Its getting harder and harder to talk myself into going in and keeping it up. I’ve thought about just filling up the gas tank and driving until I run out of gas, money, or both, but I’m more of a planner than that.

It’s time I get this career thing moving. I’ve started applying to jobs more in my line of expertise. I’m also trying to develop more skills that I can use to become what I want to be.

Yesterday I sat down for a while – while I should have been working on my resume if my aunt had anything to say about it – and I wrote. Not a blog post, no complaining. I worked on my current passion project. The Disappearance of Clara Summers. I have no idea where this story is going. I have done no plotting whatsoever and as a result it’s kind of rambling.

Kind of like my life.

But, as I work on Clara Summers’ story I get to know these characters, their likes and dislikes, who they are as people, their backstories, their wants and desires, all of it.

I wish it was this easy to understand real people, and the real events that are happening in my life right now.

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

I’m trying to think of stories I can tell you here on this blog, but I got nothing right now. I’m so wrapped up in the crappy things that are happening that even though this isn’t what I intended to sit down and write about, it’s all I’ve got…

It’s all that’s in my head. Heck, even my aunt and grandfather have been having trouble sleeping thinking about what’s going on with me at work.

I know I can work it out… but I don’t necessarily see how.