12:26 am

I like to think this is an anonymous blog.
One that no one really reads.
But for whatever reason, there are still views stacking up.

A handful of people, somewhere read this. And that frightens me. I share stupid things on here. The things I need to vent. And I'm scared. I'm scared of who might read it. What if I'm in danger by posting thoughts online? I am ashamed of my life. I am ashamed of existing. I am small and weak and pathetic, and I'd like to fall asleep and never wake up. But that's just dumb. I can't do that to people. I mean, I could, but I hate the idea.

So here I am. Floating like a fucking weight around everyone's neck. Making it difficult for everyone to get around and do anything without my fucking weight pulling them under.

I'm sorry. Sorry to be such a fucking burden.

I can't even type anymore. I'm too depressed. Good night or whatever.

Superhero

I lean back in my chair, head cocked to the side, confident and full of myself; pretending I am a superhero. I lift one eye brow with a slight grin. 'I can do anything' I whisper to myself. 'Because I'm a freekin' superhero! And superheros have super powers.' I grin widely.

But then I glance back at the computer area in front of me; papers scattered about, bits of old projects left unfinished on top of the printer and left on and around stacks of CDs. Around my feet lay wires tangled with themselves from old and broken parts of who-really-knows-whats. I'm not really smiling anymore.

Among the heaps of junk and potentially useful items is a College catalog with course listings. I let out a sigh and sit back in my chair normally, snatching the book out from under a pile of old art work. I flip it open to some papers stuffed into the pages. Enrollment papers for the coming semester. 'I want to go to school', I tell myself, in a less than convincing voice. Barely audible. I stare at the book for a bit but then I toss it back onto the pile, and set to work on getting rid of some of the mess.

I shuffle through some papers lying on the desk. I look back at the computer screen, and see a face smiling out at me. It's the face of a baby. Amy. She's only a month old. Her little face smiles out of the computer screen, the rest of her body wrapped up warmly in the embrace of her father. His face smiling along side hers. I put down the papers and look at the picture on the screen. 'Hi Amy.' I say. My heart begins to ache a bit. It must be so comfortable there, in her father's arms. He's got a hold of her snug and tight. You can tell he's not going to let go of his little girl any time soon. How peaceful it looks to be a part of that picture. 'I want to be a mother', I begin to say, less audible than before.

I bookmark the page, and close the window. Why was that painful to look at? I decide to change rooms and I go get the papers I left with my church books. I begin leafing through and find the notes from church I took earlier this morning. Notes about being kinder to people, and about what faith really is, and about what separates hope from belief. There on the corner of one piece of paper is the scribbled words 'Note to self: Go on a mission'. There's so much that intrigues me about the gospel. I believe it. I want to share it with people. 'I want to go on a mission', I say. But am I too scared, I wonder?

I continue working on recording the notes in other places so that I can throw out all the bits of paper that have been collecting over a period of much-too-long. But I don't know how to throw some of them out. Some of them are pieces of art work, swirls and lines, shaded pictures mixed in with my notes. How do I throw those out? They aren't exactly masterpieces, but they aren't exactly transferable to some other place, and I still want to keep them. After a while, I stop. I go back to the computer chair by the window. I'm not interested in sorting papers anymore. I'll leave that for some other time. When I care more. Maybe I'm bored. Maybe I'm ADD. Then again, maybe I don't care if I'm ADD.

But, what do I care about? I wonder to myself. What do I want to do? I've got a job. I work at a daycare. I could keep working there. But for what? But I don't really want to work there anymore. Working there isn't what I want to be doing in a few months. Maybe it's because I am not dedicated, and I just don't want to do something I'm not enjoying, or maybe it's because having worked there has made me dislike children, and I think that is wrong. So I ask myself again, 'what do I want to do?'

'I want to start a business', I say, half wishing someone was listening so they could give me some sort of motivation. It would be amazing to change the world in some way through a business I created. The truth is, I want to begin changing the world through my efforts to help people. I want to help people all over the world. 'And I want to travel too'. I hear the words come out, but by the time they are out, my mind has already moved on. I want to travel, but what about all the other stuff I want to do? Do I have the guts? Do I know what's coming? Can I do any one of these things and not miss out on the rest?

I sigh. I lean back in my chair, and cock my head, looking out the window. 'I want to be a superhero', I say. This time I can barely muster up the words. 'Maybe then I'd have the guts to try something. Anything. Even if it was just finishing clearing up this messy room. I'd do something exciting. After all, I'd have super powers.'

But nothing changes. The leaves aren't even rustling in the wind. It's all the same. Same as when I looked out the window the first time. And I'm not a superhero. I don't have super powers. And I can't bend the rules.

I sigh again. I wish someone would push me in some direction. Then I wouldn't have to choose and come up with my own motivation. I'd just have to keep the momentum.

I get out of the chair, and begin cleaning the papers off the desk. Frustrated, and weary I trudge on, hoping somewhere in the mix and confusion of it all, someone will save me from the fate of the unfortunate soul, born as a regular. Not a superhero... Not even a sidekick... Not super at all.

The rewards of labor

I thought this diagram was pretty cool. I saw it when I was... well a lot younger. The colors were very impressive to me at the time, since it wasn't very often I saw a rainbow in a grown-up's book. So I sat looking at the picture for quite a while before I asked my mom what it meant. At that point in time, I was simply drawn to the pretty rainbow, and so of course, when presented with the choice of which one I thought I should choose, I wanted the rainbow one.

I've since come to realize that there is so much more to the diagram, with much more depth than just a pretty hour-glass shaped object vs. the brownish icky (I swear it looked worse in the book) diamond shaped object. The principle of the comparison is actually quite spectacular. The main principle of this diagram is that what you do now, will affect you later. Whether we choose to do something positive and uplifting (sharing our lollipop with the next kid over), or something negative and depressing (hiding out lollipops from everyone else), we can not avoid the fact that there are consequences to every choice we make. "There -- are -- ALWAYS -- consequences!" As would that guy off of that movie (Jumper) say.

It gets harder and harder as we strive to do good, to keep doing good. But if we endure, if we stick it out and keep on, eventually it will turn around and we will find it becomes easier because the rewards outweigh the challenge. An example of that would be lifting weights. As we lift them, we could realize that it hurts, it's hard and we don't like it. But the more we do it, the stronger we become, and the easier it is. And for some reason people get happy because they can lift big weights. And happiness is the ultimate reward for our actions. We have to keep in mind the long-term happiness though, not the short-term surface-type happiness that can be stolen away in an instant once our environment changes.

True happiness is not dependent on any outside influence.

This means that the happiness we feel in any given situation where 'something made us happy' can be stolen away from us if the situation had been opposite what it was. For example, if someone says "I think you look very attractive today", that might make you happy. If it does make you happy, then the opposite would also stand. If they said "I think you look ugly today", then that would make you feel unhappy. The goal though is to be happy even if someone says something that can be taken offensively. The goal is to stay focused on the big picture and realize that even if the world around you is a mosh pit of chaos, or a battle field of arrows aimed at you, or a jail cell of injustice... You can still be happy. Or at least at peace with yourself.

One way to do that, is to be grateful all the time, and looking on the bright side of things. If someone says "I think you look ugly today", you could be grateful that the implication is that the rest of the days, you look beautiful. Or you could be grateful that they pointed it out before you walked out the door so you could do something about it. Or you could be grateful that you don't care if they think you look ugly. Or you could be grateful that you have some duct tape in the drawer. See? All these bright, happy... happy thoughts.

It's the point of this life. "Everlasting Happiness"