sit
I close my eyes, open and stare at blank reality. The reality that I'm staring at a screen. The reality that I spend excessive time worrying about la computadora. I'm plastered to the screen-- my face part of the fixture. And what goes on in that cyberworld-- cybernetic, hyperspeed ministry if you want to call it, absorbs me. I want to pull away, but it's like I can't. It feels like I'm obligated.
I've loved it, but it destroys me. My livejournal is a chronicle of my life, but I feel partially digitally constructed-- like Darth Vader. My words are as simple as the screen allows. I do not get a quality education; I get by-- preparing for life-long ministry in all the wrong way. So I thought I was doing good-- then reality set in.
I may be depressed right now, call it clinical, but I have reason to be. I'm regulated by electronics. I should try to just be silent and listen to the Lord perhaps. Right Jesus, sounds like a move to me.
I talk, talk, talk, with a zeal seen by the naked eye. The biggest chocolate Easter bunny with chocolate as thin as paper. God knows if I'm solid with the test of time and my work will show through good or bad. But I feel wretched at this computer. And the truth is...
"If your left eye causes you to sin, pluck it out-- lest your whole body be thrown into hell."
I'm so miserable so often that I just about want to take this computer and throw it out the window. But alas, I have to worry about what e-mail might be sent to the yahoo account. And could I ever destroy my livejournal record of my life? No Way.... but at the same time I don't know how to make sure I don't access it.
I've loved it, but it destroys me. My livejournal is a chronicle of my life, but I feel partially digitally constructed-- like Darth Vader. My words are as simple as the screen allows. I do not get a quality education; I get by-- preparing for life-long ministry in all the wrong way. So I thought I was doing good-- then reality set in.
I may be depressed right now, call it clinical, but I have reason to be. I'm regulated by electronics. I should try to just be silent and listen to the Lord perhaps. Right Jesus, sounds like a move to me.
I talk, talk, talk, with a zeal seen by the naked eye. The biggest chocolate Easter bunny with chocolate as thin as paper. God knows if I'm solid with the test of time and my work will show through good or bad. But I feel wretched at this computer. And the truth is...
"If your left eye causes you to sin, pluck it out-- lest your whole body be thrown into hell."
I'm so miserable so often that I just about want to take this computer and throw it out the window. But alas, I have to worry about what e-mail might be sent to the yahoo account. And could I ever destroy my livejournal record of my life? No Way.... but at the same time I don't know how to make sure I don't access it.