I awoke late at night after I slept the day away.

I married my love, but she left on our anniversary.

I said see you in the morning, and never saw them again.

What kind of a world is this?

I hummed along my way, but even the birds were staring.

They wanted a speech, but my words were finally gone.

The moon set under the water, hiding in the thickness.

Who knows how much mystery there is—

What kind of a world is this?

So where is there for my spirit to perch, and find rest?

To what thought, to what place can I lift my eyes?

Is there anything in creation that will never say No?

You are the Lord of all.

The moon sets, people fade away, and life feels dead.

But your steady gaze silences whispers in the dark.

What else would do, even if it lasted forever?

I find hope to say I want this body after all.

You create, and you wipe away: life and death are forever yours.

What kind of a world is this?

I find you here; may all of this fade into the dimness. 

Your light shines over all; no other light truly reveals what there is.

Life, your child’s toy.  You give us this, and we abuse it and you.

But you never say No. 

Praise be to the Lord, for we have nothing we can say.

Some paradoxes and catch-22s for your rumination.

This is the paradox of cynicism.  A cynic is a person who expects to be disappointed.  Thus, by being disappointed, they end up satisfied.  For instance, consider a person who expects that their romantic life is doomed to failure.  In such a case, they are sad that they failed (in romance) and happy that they succeeded (in their prediction).  So what are they really?

I have heard that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.  This makes me feel bad when I am throwing things away because I think, “Man, it’s terrible that I am throwing away someone else’s treasure”.  So I don’t throw it away.  But then since I don’t throw it away, it isn’t their treasure.  So then I go to throw it away again, but I am stopped by the same consideration.  And there I stand before the trash can for all eternity not knowing what to do with the used piece of floss.

Suppose there was a person who pretended to be someone else for their entire life.  They never broke out of that character.  But if they really weren’t that person, then when were they who they really were?  Can you be a person that you never are?  But surely they weren’t the other person either, for they were only pretending to be them.  So who was this person? 

I think there is a lot of pressure that comes with being called a “fearless leader”.  Thus as a boss I will be extremely afraid that my employees will start calling me their fearless leader.  But since I am afraid of it, they won’t be able to call me their fearless leader.  So I won’t expect them to call me their fearless leader, so I won’t be afraid of it anymore.  But then this leads to the fear all over again . . . which leads to the disappearance of the fear, and so on and so forth. 

That is one I am afraid I will never be able to work out.

Alright, goodnight everyone!  Have fun making up the lines of your life!  Say something you normally wouldn’t, be a little crazier, a different animal – a duck as supposed to a deer, we shall say.  How does one be more duck like?  I’m not sure.  But if you pull it off, everyone will be quacking up, I promise.  Ok bye!

We say ‘prayer’ because we have more to say than words can express.

We say ’worship’ because there is more than just speaking kindly of someone.

We say ’the Church’ because there is more than mere community.

We say ‘holy’ because there is more than just goodness.

We say ‘soul’ because there is more than just water and bones.

We say ‘eternity’ because it will all be swallowed up. 

We say ‘Abba’ because we know there is somewhere that’s home.

What world do you live in?  What words fill it up?  Is the world illuminated? 

For the words we use there must be a reason.  And if you don’t use other words, is that where the world stops?  Is there nothing more to find?  Is that all the life there is for humans to live? 

Thank you, Lord, for all we have.  This life you give us we could not return.  Take what poor and barren words we have. 

Starbucks has this motto, “It’s just not coffee. It’s Starbucks.”  But after seeing that I imagined two friends at Starbucks and one of them is really upset, so the other says, “I’m sorry. We didn’t have to go out for coffee.”  Then the upset friends responds disgustedly, “It’s not just coffee. It’s Starbucks.“

I have secret handshakes with lots of people, but none of us know how to do them. That’s how secret they are.

“Officer, I swear I wasn’t hitchhiking. I was just complimenting everybody on their driving. You know, ‘Great driving! Way to go!’  Oh, my backpack?  It’s . . . a long walk home from school.”

There are so many songs about lovers, what about arch-nemeses?  Do they not fill our lives with meaning, the endless battles we’ll have, the close escapes, the amazing ultimacy of it all? 

We should also be able to add arch-nemeses on facebook.

I didn’t believe in democracy, but then my brain cells voted on it, and now I do.

23: Average time in seconds it takes me to find my way through any given hoodie I try to put on.

Countdowns make crossing the street more epic.

The first thing I would do as president is require fire departments to use battering rams to break down doors.  Then after my term ended, I would become a firefighter.

If I were a thief I’d sit next to people at airports and coffee shops until they ask me to watch their stuff for a minute. “Oh sure, your stuff is safe with me.”  *wily grin*

Also everyone, always remember: there is a slight but important difference between “eye contact” and “facial contact”. 

“Dude, this is serious, make facial contact with me!”

Your formalism is your despair, the way I saw you, and it was already over.  Life never had a chance, not when you are a complaint in the universe; a seed-sower of mutiny and death.  The truth is always ready to invade our lives, if only we let it.

You were always looking at me, but never while you were upright.  But if I’m slanted from the start, meeting each other just starts us moving in opposite directions.  Sometimes the only thing you want is to be understood, if only for a moment.  The world is awfully complicated.

Did they sign you up for this?  Are you allowed to not participate in culture?  No, you must.  You walk up to someone reading at a library and start talking to them, they will be confused, affronted.  The world teaches us what must happen, who we must be, before we have time to speak.  The morbid bell chimes from a distant star; when our time is up, what will we have chosen?  Anything?

But that’s how the world works, and we can sing our sad songs in protest as we walk along back alleyways, but will anyone end up alive?  Will not all our friends, others who could be alive if only we just believed that passing look in our eyes for just one moment, wind up in the same cemetery?  Perhaps not even that.  Just as in life, they bury us worlds apart.

For that is life for someone who is just walking along.  You see people on the street, just like Chesterton said to do, and you wonder what could be.  Life seems to be a long moment of wishing, until maybe, just maybe, there is a sudden snap in the chord, and a smile is in front of you, and a hello, and you get to say something back, and off you gallavant into the wonderful world of conversation with someone who knows what life is all about, and the world is not such a dreadful place after all.

The other day I saw a girl with a rabbit lying down reading a book.  Her rabbit was on a leash, and I didn’t know they made leashes for rabbits.  This made me very happy to see a girl out with her rabbit, and I really wanted to pet the rabbit as I walked past, but instead I just smiled really big because of how happy I was.  The girl saw me smiling at her and her rabbit even though I was quite past her and she laughed.  I wonder what she named her rabbit.

Yesterday I was in the store and I was looking for the PopTarts when I suddenly forgot what store I was in.  Well, at least what grocery store, because I go to different grocery stores.  Do you ever forget which grocery store you’re in?  I suppose that is the problem with being a player of grocery stores.  Going to the wrong aisle because you forgot which store you are in is a lot like saying the wrong name in bed.  How embarrassing.

A lot of times if someone showers us with gifts and love, we forget we don’t deserve it.  I do that all the time.

A six dollar meal will last you a half hour, but you can feast on a six dollar book for years.

(I bring this up in a lame attempt to justify my maniacal book buying habits.  The last two times I have been to the bookstore I have bought at least six books on each particular ocassion.  One of those times I picked up a book off the shelf and opened it directly to the sentence that went, ‘It does no good to buy many books if one cannot also buy the time with which to read them’.  I proceeded to buy that book.)

Today I dreamt of a man who lived in a house in the woods, and who went down to the riverbed and dug up the bones of lovers from long ago.  At this point humans were all spread out, and no one knew much of what had happened in times past.  The man collected the bones and spent much time closely studying their structure, but there were no signs of the love they once shared. 

For where was their love now?  Was it a mere whisper in the woods, or did the sun dry it up with the river? 

Your biography will most certainly be false; your bones will keep your secrets.

I saw a really big guy holding a bunch of balloons yesterday.  I thought it was a very funny sight.  I guess that goes to show, who doesn’t love balloons? 

I’m listening to the Garden State soundtrack; it’s quite relaxing. 

It is quite hot where I work, but when we go outside, it is cool and the world is damp and refreshing.  People are wandering everywhere, the scene of a city alive at night.  It rained lightly all day, almost like an inverse exclamation mark on the week; everyone at work had had a bad last couple days.  But we are all kind to one another, and it makes going there feel very homelike.

Always remember, if you ever meet someone and both of you burst out laughing right when you do, that is probably a good sign.  I think I will go to bed now.  Goodnight.