(no subject)
Sorrow, joy, peace, patience, earnest hope and anticipation. Being unsure.
Loving people…
It has been so long since I have tried to write out things. Years since I did it regularly. Now I just capstone the points of relevance but unimportance. I just re-read some conversations I had with people when I was young. I was even dumber then I am now… I suppose that was one advantage of being on the internet 24/7: I made myself get out and record how things were. On reflection, I had no idea how things were, but at least I placed them on the table. Writing styles are so comical to me, that in my Core Humanities text book “Enduring Legacies,” people would write a sentence including “… You have got to know …”
I sit here, not contemplating one more essay in a hundred I have written knowing nothing of the subject. A 5 page essay that must be written in about an hour. I have no sense of urgency.
I sit in a room of almost-perfection. Well - I still await the rug my roommate supposedly will sell me when he moves out. I have to dry clean it too.. The money comes from this exchanged-life super-conference ‘thing’ that was just canceled (40$.) I just hung some shelves and another mirror yesterday. Samantha is mad at me and my guilt is justified in my feeling guiltless. My grandfather is dying in a hospital, if he isn’t already so… My mother is working herself to death. My father is not-working himself to death, as he failed a test to go to “Quizno’s school.” They have hopes I will conquer the world - somehow - and my mother is for once trusting me with grades that I have, unknown to her, been irresponsible with. I will be able to make up for that Music Theory midterm I slept through this Wednesday. I should do my homework for the first time in two weeks, and write that essay.
I listen to Zero Theory wondering how I used to find them corny and irreverent. A cute girl walks by out the window; I saw her walking the other way towards campus earlier. I try very hard to not notice a cute girl walking in front of my house. There she goes again… what is she doing anyway? A UPS truck goes by and cancels the relevance… To bad it didn’t stop here - as if I was expecting something.
There is a large tree, perfect for climbing (or so I have been told by every friend who enjoys climbing trees and has walked past it.) The light shines down perfectly through the fall-ripened leaves. Now a fed-ex truck goes by.
Does a Social Security number constitute a person? It never changed, but I no longer even have the same memories to constitute myself. I don’t believe any of the same things. I don’t have any of the same friends. My parents are not who I once believed them to be. My mother is an amazing statue of endurance… My father a fickle old man. She is a frail thin woman of clockwork. My father holds her together, keeps things working. And still she serves people. My sister now has personality in addition to her feelings. She still knows nothing about me, but someday she might. She tells her friends that I crochet… (but I still can’t knit.)
The music stopped, my roommate sits in the other room and plays guitar. I used to hate guitar. I want to learn. He is Mormon. I failed in convincing him of anything. I didn’t build a relationship. There is a rift from our sleepless nights of fruitlessness. I should pray with him before he leaves.
God never changes. My perspective is rebooted periodically on a new operating system. The cute girl just walked by again. Maybe she isn’t as cute as I first suspected… I told myself I wouldn’t stop to look. She had a boy following her in a car last time, as she flirtatiously objected to his doing so.
I really must go write that essay, 4 pages in half an hour is a bit unreasonable. I at least have confidence in my printer right now.
My world is pristine because it is controlled with perfection’s fingertips. I could forget in 60 seconds. I do the things I do, and do not do… Very unwise things that I do because I feel no urgency. And it always completes itself perfectly.
I just talked to my roommate for a coupla minutes…. An answer to the prayers I just uttered.
I claim I go to church 8 or 9 times a week… probably 6. But I have a ridiculous number of options. Intervarsity small group Thursday, Intervarsity missions group Wednesday, Intervarsity, Large group Thursday, the prayer group God started on Friday morning, Living Stones Friday night- pray through the service, Living Stones small group Saturday morning, Grace Church main service Saturday night or Sunday morning (I should go to the youth group to be an example), Fellowship with Howard (& friends) Sunday afternoon, Living Stones Sunday evening, or bible study with the Amber, Jaeremy, Alex, Samantha, Tiffany group. Nothing Mondays - but maybe a ‘perspectives’ class in January. I just returned (I almost used the phrase ‘got back’) from an Intervarsity fall conference. After all this -- I still don’t know much. I’m supposedly praying for a ridiculous number of people on a regular basis.. I am sorta succeeding. I should finish reading the new testament, which I started a couple weeks ago, in preparation for talking to the Bahai guys.
I haven’t done homework in any of my classes in 2 weeks. I got an A- on my last major Chinese test after not attending class for a week. I still try to spell Chinese ‘Chineese’… I haven’t been to my core humanities class in 2 weeks, and I sit here and write this in place of the essay due in a short period of time. I missed a significant period of time for my music theory class, including my midterm *which I make up on Wednesday* … I missed my last science Friday for my Psychology class, and there is a major test on Thursday. I missed one test already, but he scraps the lowest grade (at least.) My Philosophy class, I have no idea how I did on the midterm… but I could have studied considerably more. I haven’t attended my concert class for two weeks either. I still have yet to turn in my final transcripts. I tell myself I will take care of it all every weekend, and touch nothing.
And still I sit here in a perfect room in a life in perfect control, spiraling out of my understanding, staring at a tree perfect for climbing, as light spills perfectly through the leaves it has so perfectly golden-roasted.
20 minutes for that essay… (I just wasted even more time re-reading this reflection.) I should choose which prompt I will answer. I can settle for 4 pages anyway. I knew it from the beginning. You wonder how I wrote twice as much in the remaining 10 minutes? I also knew I could be late…
Jacob, you still don’t know anything.
Loving people…
It has been so long since I have tried to write out things. Years since I did it regularly. Now I just capstone the points of relevance but unimportance. I just re-read some conversations I had with people when I was young. I was even dumber then I am now… I suppose that was one advantage of being on the internet 24/7: I made myself get out and record how things were. On reflection, I had no idea how things were, but at least I placed them on the table. Writing styles are so comical to me, that in my Core Humanities text book “Enduring Legacies,” people would write a sentence including “… You have got to know …”
I sit here, not contemplating one more essay in a hundred I have written knowing nothing of the subject. A 5 page essay that must be written in about an hour. I have no sense of urgency.
I sit in a room of almost-perfection. Well - I still await the rug my roommate supposedly will sell me when he moves out. I have to dry clean it too.. The money comes from this exchanged-life super-conference ‘thing’ that was just canceled (40$.) I just hung some shelves and another mirror yesterday. Samantha is mad at me and my guilt is justified in my feeling guiltless. My grandfather is dying in a hospital, if he isn’t already so… My mother is working herself to death. My father is not-working himself to death, as he failed a test to go to “Quizno’s school.” They have hopes I will conquer the world - somehow - and my mother is for once trusting me with grades that I have, unknown to her, been irresponsible with. I will be able to make up for that Music Theory midterm I slept through this Wednesday. I should do my homework for the first time in two weeks, and write that essay.
I listen to Zero Theory wondering how I used to find them corny and irreverent. A cute girl walks by out the window; I saw her walking the other way towards campus earlier. I try very hard to not notice a cute girl walking in front of my house. There she goes again… what is she doing anyway? A UPS truck goes by and cancels the relevance… To bad it didn’t stop here - as if I was expecting something.
There is a large tree, perfect for climbing (or so I have been told by every friend who enjoys climbing trees and has walked past it.) The light shines down perfectly through the fall-ripened leaves. Now a fed-ex truck goes by.
Does a Social Security number constitute a person? It never changed, but I no longer even have the same memories to constitute myself. I don’t believe any of the same things. I don’t have any of the same friends. My parents are not who I once believed them to be. My mother is an amazing statue of endurance… My father a fickle old man. She is a frail thin woman of clockwork. My father holds her together, keeps things working. And still she serves people. My sister now has personality in addition to her feelings. She still knows nothing about me, but someday she might. She tells her friends that I crochet… (but I still can’t knit.)
The music stopped, my roommate sits in the other room and plays guitar. I used to hate guitar. I want to learn. He is Mormon. I failed in convincing him of anything. I didn’t build a relationship. There is a rift from our sleepless nights of fruitlessness. I should pray with him before he leaves.
God never changes. My perspective is rebooted periodically on a new operating system. The cute girl just walked by again. Maybe she isn’t as cute as I first suspected… I told myself I wouldn’t stop to look. She had a boy following her in a car last time, as she flirtatiously objected to his doing so.
I really must go write that essay, 4 pages in half an hour is a bit unreasonable. I at least have confidence in my printer right now.
My world is pristine because it is controlled with perfection’s fingertips. I could forget in 60 seconds. I do the things I do, and do not do… Very unwise things that I do because I feel no urgency. And it always completes itself perfectly.
I just talked to my roommate for a coupla minutes…. An answer to the prayers I just uttered.
I claim I go to church 8 or 9 times a week… probably 6. But I have a ridiculous number of options. Intervarsity small group Thursday, Intervarsity missions group Wednesday, Intervarsity, Large group Thursday, the prayer group God started on Friday morning, Living Stones Friday night- pray through the service, Living Stones small group Saturday morning, Grace Church main service Saturday night or Sunday morning (I should go to the youth group to be an example), Fellowship with Howard (& friends) Sunday afternoon, Living Stones Sunday evening, or bible study with the Amber, Jaeremy, Alex, Samantha, Tiffany group. Nothing Mondays - but maybe a ‘perspectives’ class in January. I just returned (I almost used the phrase ‘got back’) from an Intervarsity fall conference. After all this -- I still don’t know much. I’m supposedly praying for a ridiculous number of people on a regular basis.. I am sorta succeeding. I should finish reading the new testament, which I started a couple weeks ago, in preparation for talking to the Bahai guys.
I haven’t done homework in any of my classes in 2 weeks. I got an A- on my last major Chinese test after not attending class for a week. I still try to spell Chinese ‘Chineese’… I haven’t been to my core humanities class in 2 weeks, and I sit here and write this in place of the essay due in a short period of time. I missed a significant period of time for my music theory class, including my midterm *which I make up on Wednesday* … I missed my last science Friday for my Psychology class, and there is a major test on Thursday. I missed one test already, but he scraps the lowest grade (at least.) My Philosophy class, I have no idea how I did on the midterm… but I could have studied considerably more. I haven’t attended my concert class for two weeks either. I still have yet to turn in my final transcripts. I tell myself I will take care of it all every weekend, and touch nothing.
And still I sit here in a perfect room in a life in perfect control, spiraling out of my understanding, staring at a tree perfect for climbing, as light spills perfectly through the leaves it has so perfectly golden-roasted.
20 minutes for that essay… (I just wasted even more time re-reading this reflection.) I should choose which prompt I will answer. I can settle for 4 pages anyway. I knew it from the beginning. You wonder how I wrote twice as much in the remaining 10 minutes? I also knew I could be late…
Jacob, you still don’t know anything.