(no subject)
I wish I had a journal here in San Marcos. Nothing beats the feeling of ink sliding up and down a page, solid black with nothing to hide. This is too uniform. Its too unoriginal. I share my thoughts on a journal site that has close to 500 posts a minute...where is the significance of mine? But in a physical journal, shoot...All that matters is you and what you write. What is happening to my words? They escape me and seem to gradually lose their meaning and weight with others. Texas State has definitely had it's affects on me. A constant spiritual battle will wear a man out, no matter how strong. I don't feel special anymore. I feel like a statistic with arms, legs and a heart. When I go back to Houston, I feel like I matter, I feel the way I have felt my whole life: I feel like a leader and a strong man of God. In San Marcos I feel like a transition until I breathe Houston air. I don't even like the Houston air. I long for other places, like San Francisco or Austin or Dallas or Disneyworld. I want more of God here.
Ben
Ben