God made maths so humanity would agree on at least one thing.

I am aware that sometimes I swing a little far right and then a little far left, and somehow via trial and error, I find the balance...usually. Or what sometimes appears as compromise, which arguably cheapens both "extreme" beliefs. Or makes peace with.

There are so little correct answers in life, except in maths, which is why I like math. because I can know if I'm right or not and know that there is an absolute truth in calculations.

Maths and God. The only two truths that I think I'll categorise as concrete for the entirety of my life. Perhaps when I grow up, I'll be a godly mathematician, after all, I've always fancy absolutes.

i'm an alien.

after dropping suz off at work at chaddy, i thought it worthwhile perusing the first batch of fresh renovations, also keeping an eye on casual vacancies in certain windows interspersed throughout the centre.

i exited totally horrified.

somehow my own reflection thrown back at me from shop windows was distorted and ugly enough. as my pace quickened, i wanted just to be invisible because of the increasing insecurity that began gnawing at my sanity. i think the safest few seconds i felt was when i visited andy at the apple store and although he was too busy, he smiled at me and i felt a little less disgusting; and when i farewelled suz and she sent a hearty "hey" with added smile my way, she too was too busy to afford me any conversation afterward. walking out, i sighed relief all the 50metres to the car, appreciating the breeze of the 3rd last winter day- thanking the outdoors for freedom from an intoxicated and greedy bubble bought with invisible money on plastic cards.

i think my accidental detox from big centres of considerable dollar value had my little exploration come like culture shock to me. i'm too poor to appreciate these now. i'm a little bit hypocrite because i still have urges to spend, though none exceeding the five dollar per item mark. i suppose my imagination made up the masses of people swirling around me with greedily glazed eyes only focused on what next to buy. i honestly felt that if i were to stay more than three hours in the place, i too would've been hypnotised by the deception that spending money and spending money with friends and family was the purpose to life.

there's a high chance i'm being an idiot or that the paranoia of sleep deprevation is consuming me.

but i'm pretty sure the place reeked of greed. i used to live like that. now i wonder what stink i would've produced, working only to accumulate enough for that "other thing" which i apparently needed so badly. i've been desensitised so long.

i have a moral delemma. i have no money and therefore need a job to support myself as it's unfair for my parents to continue providing for me when i'm twenty years old because i have expenses i committed myself to which i would irresponsibly fail to meet if not for my gracious parents. however, after this afternoon, i don't want to go back. i don't want to work in that sort of environment. eighty percent of the sales assistants in the stores i walked into thought they were better than me - i know because their smiles were plastic and their inquiries, insincere.
the shop i wouldn't mind working at is oxfam - it being fairtrade and all.

anyway - i don't want to work in retail very much anymore. i want willingly to break my ties with consumerism, materialism and all things superficial. God, save me from this.

God,
save me from this.
Amen.

growing pains

I can't do this alone. But then again, I'm just passing through here...

And God permitting, we will do so. Hebrews6:3

It's one something pm in the afternoon and I feel heavy. So much more utterly exhausted than I remember being excited at the beginning of this week. The hardest stone to swallow is to acknowledge that although I feel like I've worked myself to no end with non-stop this and that's, when looking at the fruits of my labour, they are small...oh so very small. Looking out at the square mile of land I know needs toiling and digging and planting and watering and singing and loving is paralysing. I cannot wait till tomorrow- I might finally, the for first time, personally appreciate the Sabbath. That lovely day of rest I never understood was necessary. I don't even deserve it. I haven't created a whole new world full with incredible creatures and self-sustaining life forms in the past six days. I just want to crawl into the hug of an Almighty God, who could replenish my dry stamina with hope, purpose and love...so much love. I had forgotten how much loving people uses of your own when you forget you thirst for it to be returned. My throat is dry and my eyes are dark. But it's only been a week. I can't believe I'm this weak.

i can't decide what i feel.

The days, of late, have been gaining weight.

Not the sort of unwanted weight that girls exclaim as they examine their thighs. But the sort of weight that burns as you wake up with DOMS from a previous night of extreme exercise. Like the weight of urgency and the need to not waste time anymore. The exhaustion of productivity and the challenge to extend stamina. The discovery of efficiency and the want to be useful, knowledgeable and influential.

I heard the most beautiful acapella this afternoon on the radio. It was like...the wisp of a hearty and delightful aroma, warming and enticing...and unknown. Oh, what I'd give to learn of the song. I can't even recall any such lyrics. All I know is it was on Radio Eastern 98.1 FM about 12:30/1ish. Yes. It created the perfect condition with sunshine streaming in the window as I drove my shoddy little red, feeling all my cares evaporate, for as long as the 2 minutes song would free me.

I miss 70% of my friends. Because I hardly see them anymore. But I'm loving my new found freedom-purpose-productiveness. Sadly the two sort of collide.

I'll balance them later and sleep for now.

she's so highhh, high above me, she's so lovely

my best friend is stunning.

Why can't I be beautiful like her? MY MOH.

cost.

Unbeknownst to me, you gave everything I couldn't imagine,

when I couldn't give a damn.

from thought to type

I think I'm the biggest critic when it comes to the love between a man and a woman.

I'm also terrified of what on earth is happening everywhere around me. Such a deep sorrow has burrowed and made my heart it's home. I don't understand why. But pangs of heartbreak come in bouts every few days, sometimes at church, sometime when I'm alone. But I'm so afraid. Right now, I'm so afraid and disgustingly vulnerable. But when I feel my tear ducts well with salty water, I remember my children, whom I don't know very well. I think I'd die if something happened to any of them just because I forgot to care the past few months.

It's not good enough. My excuses, your excuses. It's not good enough. Because people are holding onto you. Because people rely on you. Because somewhere, somehow you proved you could be trusted, and someone sometime decided to hope in you, to believe in you and to give a little bit of themselves to you, for you to protect. So protect it with all you have! Because you have parts of your friends that will be destroyed if you are. You need to preserve the love, the hope, the joy that you have. You need to fight harder.

I need to live on behalf of the few friends of mine who are dying.

Somewhere in the only book I can trust, somebody wrote: Perfect love drives out all fear.
I cannot be afraid anymore. I don't have reason to. I am loved in perfect amounts. Peace.