Wednesday, July 3, 2013

I used to be eighteen.

I used to be eighteen. 
I'm almost twenty. 
Post rock puts me to sleep. 
I want to heal. 
I feel like I'm stuck in a 
vicious cycle of sin and addiction. 
I can hardly stomach certain truths. 
Despite all of that, I'm starting to love Jesus 
more than I ever thought possible. 
I just wish that "love" would turn into action. 
I'm impatient. With myself, with God and 
well, everyone and everything else.
Today is July 4th and my pride is coming out when
I say this, but I'm resentful towards this holiday because
this country irritates the heck out of me and there's a
war going on and people are being killed and
"freedom" lacks justice in this country.
Fireworks remind me of bombs (I guess they are little bombs)
and all of these American flags send images of nationalism
and racism streaming through my brain.
None of this is well written, I'm just being honest.
I guess honesty isn't supposed to sound pretty. Sometimes
things that are raw are pretty ugly.

Vague post. 

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