There are some nights I get really introspective. And I wonder “what am I doing?” Like really wonder. What am I doing? Have I done anything with my life that really matters? I mean I’m sure I must have through all the experiences I’ve been blessed with but nothing really bubbles to the forefront of my mind. In the grand scheme of things, I feel fairly insignificant. Though I have a tendency to diminish my story by comparing it to others’, something that used to happen only a subconscious level. But I’m aware of it now. And working on it.

Some days I wish I had more time, then some I wish for kingdom come already. Either way it’s all speeding by. Why do the days seem like they’re all rushing toward their inevitable conclusion?

The whole idea of fame bothers me now. A very very long time ago I found it appealing, then I found it to be whatever. Now it seems mostly repulsive and troublesome and yet…there are times in every single one of my days I find it appealing again, then immediately repulsive and it kind of goes in this exhausting daily cycle. It’s just one of those things I have to be really careful about and probably always will be until, you know, kingdom come.

I get tired of “those blogs” and their single Christian advice. Honestly, I feel like most of the 10,000+ rebloggers don’t even believe these cheeky cliches they’re spreading. Just be honest, you know? You want to be with someone. Who doesn’t? Stop trying to act like you’re holier than thou and have risen above the perfectly fine inherently good desires of normal people. I hate to see other Christians just using their blogs to preach to their “wayward” generation. Outside looking in, it just looks like pride preening for their tumblr audience. I hate pride. Probably because it’s one of the things I struggle with too. C.S. Lewis considered it the greatest sin and I think he’s right. It leads to a lot of others.

I really need some God alone time. I’ve just been so busy and the time just gets away from me. I hate that I can’t feel safe just walking my neighborhood. Though I’m 98% sure nothing bad will ever happen to me in Classic Suburbia, USA, it’s too late. I got the fear of the world in me. Planted by my parents and left to grow into a debilitating little gremlin for 20 years. So if I want to be alone somewhere with my thoughts and my Bible it has to be at the safest time, at the safest place possible or my mind just won’t allow me to relax and release.

I just need…I don’t know, to spend less time on the computer and more time outside? To get into more deep, meaningful conversations and relationships? Stop listening to people whine about their lives on the internet? Stop being obsessed with Dancing with the Stars since the season is over and no other season will ever be like it? Stop daydreaming about rubbing shoulders with famous people? Stop feeling like my life is a series of seemingly important but actually meaningless obligations that I can’t put off? Stop self-sabotaging mundane tasks by procrastinating? Get some sort of spiritual boost soon? Sleep? Yeah. All of the above.

One of the worst things ever is when you’re not tired but you get in bed because you know you have to go to sleep soon and that if you don’t you’ll regret it with a drowsy-eyed passion in the morning. Just you and your thoughts about annoying things like how, when and where the heck you’re ever going to meet somebody good enough to let yourself fall in love with and how it seems like you did a bunch of things today but really didn’t do anything and then feeling guilty thinking life is about performing and trying to achieve the favor you already have free access to and why you keep freaking forgetting that and then reminding yourself that that’s not a free pass to do whatever the heck you want with your life and wondering how that’s supposed to look daily for you specifically and wondering if you’re doing this right and then chiding yourself because that sounds awfully like another performance question and on and on until consciousness evaporates up into a cloud somewhere out of reach and after what seems like seconds and some really random dreams your early morning alarm dunks the cloud of consciousness back into you for another make what you will of me day. 

Omg, go to bed, Ivuoma. You’ve been talking nonsense for days now.