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| Well, I'm glad God answered your fucking prayers. I'm ever so happy for you, seriously. Whatever it is that makes you more needful than me makes me jealous. I have prayers, too; I need something, too. Or maybe neither of us needs it. I'm very close to thinking that all of it is mental games -- like, therapy disguised as church -- and that I'm expecting something from God, not from myself (which I never get), whereas everyone else feels something from within and calls it God. I don't know, but I'm fucking tired of being so entirely abandoned. Okay, so I'm incapable of dealing with things on my own; we've established that. It's why I leaned on God in the first place. I acknowledged my need, and it is great. So logically the next step is for You to...pull away? Really? If You were human, we would call that deceptive, controlling, and petty.
Sometimes I think I've come so very far, and then other times, I feel God is playing some sort of game with me to see how long I'll last without anything from Him. Nice of Him...
Ana Marie.
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| I pass by, shyly, with my eyes carefully darting so as not to force eye contact. It happens anyway. Awkward moment. Movement back to talking with friends as I pass by unheeded. I might get angry at the fact that acquaintances ignore my existence, but anger never helps. It only makes me feel like the victim, alone and, as such, better off. Downward spiral.
I am only ever attracted to the people who are unattractive and socially inept. And, perhaps because I share those qualities, I am never able the overcome to boundaries between us. I spent a good bit of my life trying to be outgoing, and I couldn't do it. I was not made that way. However, I long for attention. It's a fault, a struggle, I know, I know. But I want it anyway.
Ana Marie.
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| I checked my little sister's facebook today and found that she was a member of "Colorado for Equal Rights." Homosexual marriage?!, I thought, wondering why in the world my sister would strike so far from what I would expect her to believe. But it wasn't.
Ana Marie.
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| There are certain people that I knew were artists before reading their work; there are others I always knew would be children's writers at best. Reading their essays in class only reinforced this. I have yet to see a really good essay from someone I knew wasn't an artist, and even the bad essays by the artists have a lingering since of the divine-whatever that infiltrates good writing. There are indeed those people who can tell you about buying napkins and make you shiver with the glory of it, as well as those who can tell you the secrets of the universe and fail to impress you with it (oh, the brilliance of archie and mehitabel! -- which I can't find for quoting either in my books or online *sigh*).
Do my presuppositions make me more prone to judge the non-artists (as I label them) more harshly? Do they make me judge the "artists" in a more friendly light? I am so self-centered and sure of my judgments. Agh.
Ana Marie.
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| Okay, maybe I don't feel quite that strongly, but you can only hurt someone I love for so long by your self-centeredness (covered with the gossamer fabric of spiritual superiority) before I can't take it any more. Things have to be fair. What matters more to God: your reading the Bible, or her pain at your constant reminder for her to be quiet and respect your reading? I feel you should be beyond this, and I expect you to be, very soon, or I will be speaking with you, despite the fact that it's not my place.
Ana Marie.
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