something like laughter

i dont know what is going through my mind, through my finger tips, my feet, my heart. this is an exciting time to be alive, (i tried to finish that sentence better but being vague seems to fit best). after work i took the spoils of the week to our place. i felt so grown up. ive relied on others so much. different families, friends, all giving, pouring out their riches. im pathetic in my response. i often felt like the silent slave, but i have no bond. bowing my head repeatedly in gratitude without actually SAYING "thank you..." for "this" and for "that." im waking in 3 and a half hours. easter sunday.

a humbleing sensation rose in me hours ago. i felt like falling on my knees at that moment and crying, dismissing all interruption and just weeping. i guess i still feel like this. this isnt some easter revelation or recollection of a broken christ... god i wont ask you to take me back again, i wont ask for you to look at me without hesitation. HESITATE! NEGLECT! FORGET! such as i deserve! im excited, im broken, im hopefull, im here and i wont ask but i will act. i wont ask but you will act, you must oh lord you must.

i dont know what to write other than i had a good day and grieve my generation. i overheard a conversation between a brother and sister today. they sat in comfort, sipping on ceramic cups. they sat and she spoke. "oh god! kill me if you ever catch me in a christian music store!" this continued. she also spoke of how cheesy and impersonal every church seems, and how there is so much proof of gods existence. i dont know where im going with this but her words spoke volumes to me. her examination of my Lords kingdom (as we have made it) is sad and all but broken.

i feel like i am typing with half a keyboard, half of what i think is being thrown out, the other trapped between my skull and fingers.

i sliced my finger at work, bled much.

goodnight neverland,
aaaachoooooo

tonight was great.
awana.
hanging out with andre', sean o., donovan.
we had a good conversation about prayer. is gods hand in every pool? my conclusion is NO. he lets us live and lets glasses break and gardens grow. he lets them be and break and flourish, when i say "lets" i mean leaves them to their course.

anyway the following stuff is all random journal stuff, some prayer some just conversations with moi in my head. also a few beginnings and hints at poetry.

March 18-
My lack of passion
What is it? Its what drives us forward, the hidden voice calling us to what we love. In this moment I am far, far from the voice and that which I love.

All the while You held my exit.

Many of my recent entries have been pleadings to walk again, but it seems I loved to crawl. So I say, just as I’ve said before “this is the last. My pathetic stagnancy will end. Yield itself to you and forever we will walk, you will lead.” Now I beg! Eloí, you are my awareness. Apart from you I am without sight and sound. Taste and touch. Casting these weights, I ask You to carry this, carry me.

March 20-
“Cursed is any man hung from a tree.”
The caster of such could only be me.
Led to the slaughter this sheep to be sheared,
The tips of our fingers and minds to be feared.

Wooden expressions we give to the poor,
Sullen complexion we feast and afford.

That same look I give the broken and unrighteous man, I gave then. He who bore my weight and suffered much affliction was met with those same eyes.

March 21-
Stripes! Those Terrible Stripes!
A painting bore in flesh of His chest
This could be a masterpiece, validation of artistry!
Whipping the brush, whipping marks with perfect intrusion.
Smitten canvas of red on white.
“…He has put Him to grief”

hello,
this day i dyed my hair. slightly lighter, slightly not as blonde as i had hoped, slightly kinda sad. i worked tonight, it was long but enjoyable. during my break i wrote something, inspired by what seems to be christian dogma. how to treat eachother! those who dont seem perfect, who dont line up with CCM culture are treated as lepers. a wounded leg doesnt need to be hidden it needs to be treated. a hurting soul needs love not a lecture.

She held them to the sky,
Those scarlet wrists, had met the blind.
“Do you see!?” “I hurt as you.”
“Cant you see?” “WE hurt! WE bleed!”
Sweep this mess away, to comforts bliss. You turn your eye.
Too comfortable! "Cant we speak, can’t we cry?"
This isn’t something solely bore, it doesn’t leave when you prescribe.
"You'll fail me, you gossip, you point-You HIDE!"

its easy to stab when they dont see the knife.
(dont just skip over that line)

graciously yours,
adam

A flower for your vanity, a penny for your thoughts

about the worlds insanity and how we've gotten lost.

today was grand. aside from adventures in gas-fumed bread it was simply marvelo'
last night i spent 3 hrs drawing, i did a pencil copy of Jacques-Louis David's Death of Marat. i guess it turned out okay, there is a lot with it i am not pleased with. facial expression, slightly misshapen arm, a loose copy i suppose. well those 3 hrs ended around 3:30am. I decided i would pull a carpe diem, and seize this day. i woke bright and early at 8:30, ate breakfast and showered. ive actually NOT been tired all day. dono got home early as he has finals this week. on sunday i got some bread from church, the same day the gas can in my car tipped over. this fault was issued with much consequence. my car wreaks of gasoline and the said loaf of bread suffered greatly. the side of the bag holding the honeywheat was torn a bit. in 3 days it soaked up the thick air as a sponge to water. i didnt know this. i made egg salad and spread it on this seemingly wonderful free bread. im halfway done and donovan digs in, "dude the bread smells like gas." "no way, yer probably just smelling me, cleaned up the spill." soon after his 2nd bite he states "NO, this bread tastes and smells like gas." at this point my delicious sandwich is 2 bites from demise. i give it a final smell and YEP! smells of gas, i also realize it tastes like gas. hmmm. this caught up with me later, dizzy, lightheaded, weary legs...

moving on. donovan and i rescued abi from the stale confines of NWU. we went to Redmond Town(e? i should know by now) Center. STARBUCKS, i still havent retreived my final paycheck and tips. i saw some old friends and an enemy i suppose. Kristine was still there as well as john, mary didnt see me or i was ignored, oh well. thennn came JEN LEFF, she despised my long hair and happy attitude. i asked her if she could grab them for me as the store was very slow (very relative to this store)at this time. she went in the back and then came out quickly. i asked again and she gave me bad "IT TAKES A MINUTE, CALL AHEAD NEXT TIME" attitude so i left. oh 5 minutes previous she tried to get me to buy some food and a drink, haha, i used to work for you idiot, say "hi"-not "buy!"... leaving the center(or is it centre?) i noticed more posters near the dumpster, we gnabbed em. abi suffered most, having giant boards above her head for 20 minutes, im sure hitting her head from time to time.

We watched EULOGY, starred ray ramano (we got it cos he had a mustache), hank azaria, and a few other people...really funny movie, dark comedy i suppose. most of the jokes stemmed from a degenerate father figure who had died...eulogy. i recommend it, highly.

soon came AWANA, i played kickball with the older boys, they whine too much. i suffered much emotional stress, yelling and begging for them to comply. it was fun.
then came the little ones, we did a whole lot of nothing. ran around with heads in baskets and arms flailing. lame. i need more organization for them, i feel i am failing. they deserve more than what i give. then came the mid's, hahaha, when they came in i was "playing" DUCK DUCK GOOSE with the little ones. there was much harassment and heckle. sooooo i made them play what the younger kids played. the2nd grade boys were found to be tooooo cool until it began, they had fun. we soon kicked our way into 3 intense innings of fun. during this time i "suffered" a few short blackouts, a wave of darkness sweeping over my head. kinda like when you stand too quickly. i also felt really weak, i attribute this to my lack of food after i consumed deaths sandwich. after awana i went to some teriyaki with david g. im pretty sure its called yummi or something to that effect. i bought hairdye, tomorrow morning i shall accomplish this task. im goin for a squad five-o look without the layered-rockstar look.

tomorrow i will draw.
farewell my readers with small voices, after all...its delicate.
adam

who am i to be thought of?
i feel so lonely sometimes, dont we all?
Caught up in these soil-bound vessels.
trapped in misconception.
"Life is pain!" wesley exclaims to his love. Or was it the pirate to the slut?
it's many things, joy, sorrow, filled with purpose, emtpied of sanity.

life is such that pain must dictate, the evaluation not the instance.
i suppose joy too is a cause of change though half as strong.

her name was lithograph...tbc

at work i broke 2 plates and proved someone wrong. good day on the job.
farewell for now.

He comes from the north as golden splendor...

it is one-thirty in the morning. this day that passed took with it opportunity. for about a week now i have neglected my love. not only have i shunned his words but i have forsaken our conversations. sure, ive prayed, off hand remarks about how i desire this and that. all for ruin i say. i was coaxed into doing this i suppose. many nights i have battled myself. do i go ahead and do my quiet time, giving God my last moments or do i start anew this next day? do i give him my first fruits starting tomorrow, or my last fruits starting today. my neglect is unexcusable yet human, isnt it? im supposed to do this, arent i? im supposed to be irresponsible and callous, selfish and vain. i didnt know what to read or scan so i typed "daily devotional" into google. the returned Our Dail Bread...march 8th WEIGHT LOSS. the opening story tells us of Alexander the Great's army. how they won war after war, time after time. soon they became weighed down by the many riches obtained from defeated foes. this led to a near defeat of alexanders world. he ordered they burn all they had collected and so they did. it was later said that "It was as if wings had been given to them—they walked lightly again." the treasures they held, had been given them nearly destroyed them. in the same way the devo continues, relating this history lesson with biblical truth. rather than carry pounds of gold, our Lord insists we put on the Armor of God(ephesians)! and in hebrews that we cast off every weight, that which weighs us down. this is small. this is quiet. this could be huge. this could be loud. will i let it? do i want it?

tomorrow donovan, daniel, david and (d)adam are going to the HE IS LEGEND, PROJECT 86 show. i love projects older stuff and some new...then there ie H.I.L. thrilled beyond words, if their live show carries half the intensity of that little disc i will scream like there is no tomorrow.

right now i am intrigued by broken streets and shattered windows.

here is a picture i tirelessly scratched about a week ago. or two. its me with one and a half arms. i dont like drawing hands/arms so i gave up before i got to it. its a self portrait i guess.

work is work is work. its now 1:46
hopefully endeavor will go on tour sooner than later.
now i rest. the morning comes quickly and i must not miss it!
adam

..feigning and apology.

Woohooo, so work was very productive. Both my mind and hands worked with such fervor.
Driving to work I had this odd feeling, sensation rather...the creative part of my mind literally said to me, through an echo in my head "i-i-i'm ba-ack"

Such feeble thought,
I think,
I thought. This day will drift away.
When sounds I sound will reach the dead,
resounding in this day.
The famine feast,
the trumpets flirt,
for those whom heaven's heard.
Caskets lie now overturned,
near emptied home of earth.

And here is a bit of an explanation of it. Prose I suppose.

These thoughts I have, I think wrongly. I thought this life would end and with it, purpose. When my voice reaches its destination, those open ears, it will be louder and broader than ever before. Those who hunger will be filled. The heavens will rejoice and play songs for those who've sought the Christ. Their tombs are empty, and caskets where they once lay, have been overturned.

Here is another. I was thinking about a friend who I was walking with one day. We were in Seattle and there were old men staring at her. I would stare back resenting them for their desire. Funny thing is, i'm as corrupt as they. This poem is about how the world has come to view women.

That pretty face, those pretty thighs.
They met me often, they'd meet my eyes.
I never sought beauty such as she,
who'd "love" me, who'd be-
EVERYTHING, all that she could not attain.
Never what God intended, had made.

good day all. i am off.
adam