Yes, we can touch whatever we want whenever we want it. We know so many people, we have so many interests. Limitless connection, endless advancement. So many beautiful things.
Competing things. Each area of interest is a flurry of individuals vying for attention. There may be more opportunity in this internet-driven time, but any real opportunity is taken up quickly by the best of the best. The rest of us are faced with the realization of globalization's ruthlessness. It's like we're boiled down to thousands of beads, each auditioning to be a pearl.
Even if this isn't true - if opportunities are only as diverse as the needs that are also springing up - we're still left with endless directions to head. Most of us are nearly forced (maybe by our own instincts for self-preservation) to dive into multiple areas of interest at once, following the latest and best, hoping to reflect it all in a way that would make us feel more complete. We become a collage of lifestyles, continuous adaptive suck-ups, if you will - we seem to observe people we admire and imitate what they imitate. Those who follow are getting as much credit as those who lead. How interesting.
Something else that bothers me about our day - the decline of the event. I feel as if we've become so continuous in our communications, so satisfied in our contact, that seeing one another is not as monumental of an occurrence. A friend's personality can still be felt through a text, and we get a small sense of what it's like being with them in person. Over time, this may compound and translate eventually into a casual meeting after years of actual separation, instead of a huge party celebrating a reunion. Perhaps this is best, I don't know. But it seems unsettling to me, that we compensate for physical presence and attention with virtual snapshots. We might be becoming lazy, spoiled. I've had a small fear in the back of my mind for a while - that we might be depending too much on technology to define our relationships and livelihoods. It's a great supplement, but I fear it may threaten replacement.
I have come to realize that what a person perceives as beautiful reminds them of what they value.
Fresh, bold colors in a painting mean life, happiness, flavor. Slow music brings back fond memories. Wide eyes convey alertness, sensitivity, pity.
Beauty may be too narrow a word. Although it stands alone, it brings out the most fundamental concerns of man.
This world has become viscerally addicted to beauty. And yet, we don't understand why we like it.
I'm at the other end - I have all to gain and nothing to lose. Traveling up to my relatives', I see nice houses, simple houses, trailer parks, farms..., and I wonder what ownership feels like. The disparity between income levels also baffles me: what will be my cap income and will I be content with that? I say I want to live in the city, but that would eat up a decent salary pretty quickly.
What will it be like to own my own land? I would probably waste good money to get a pool or something I wouldn't use very often... but I've always been that way: I remember wondering why people didn't make parking lots into skate parks or basketball courts. I've always seen the potential in things, but failed to consider the costs involved. It'll probably come back to bite me someday.
My main concern right now is getting a job. Temporary, part-time, anything that will pay the bills for me to stay here and get enough experience to get a longer-term job. With one month left before my parents ship off to Brazil, I'm starting to get antsy. I'm considering starting up a small business building websites for churches. Not sure how, but I'll pray about it and ask some friends if they would consider joining me. Freelancing is risky, but I'm getting the feeling that the demand could be high.
It startled me, but I think it's a good thing. Every person needs a sense of belonging, something I've been struggling with a lot... but bringing someone else into that struggle to fill it out is not the answer.
I've come to realize that I should be solidifying my motives instead of attaching to another's just yet. I have a tendency to run head-on in "love" at someone for the sake of a few details I wish I had in myself. A couple years ago, a girl I knew well told me God had led her to a point where she was content with being single. I was completely amazed and thought I would never reach that level of maturity, self-sufficiency. Whatever it is, it looks like I'm getting to that point.
From the outside, it probably seems like such a trivial thing. But I'm a poet, I live for feelings. Half of me feels defeated, like my longing for love is being outgrown by a mellow acceptance of loneliness. It's probably the recent circumstances of transition, an internal badgering for independence. I'm trying to figure myself out for now - where I belong, what I truly enjoy.
But the pit of me will always want to love someone.
How ironic, it's actually raining as I type this.
but only as in the deepest part
of the quietest ocean.
it is a deep-soaking
permeating kind of love
impartial and unexplained.
it whelms the whole person,
unabated by any peculiarities.
engulfing the soul in a foamy wash.
so gentle and unmoved
as it fingers within and without
yet as heavily spread
as tar to seal away an underworld of grief.
I can't get out.
I am a self-inflicted victim of sin.
that grace so free and powerful--
can it be?
my sin is too steep,
my heart too hardened by the
consequences of this flaw.
the world is constantly evil,
turns to dust in my mouth.
where is the end?
its pattern becomes mine,
its folly my wisdom.
where is the end?
there is nowhere to go.
God, be my refuge.
my sin pursues me,
it chases me all day long.
I am never safe.
Shepherd, save me
from the wolves surrounding.
I miss your words.
your whispering is better than life.
undo my heart of knots.
teach me the straight way again.
fill my gaping hole,
remove my basest traits,
restore me to your worship.