I don't want to blog, but it's better than screaming.

I'm a self-proclaimed Christian. Which means I go to church, I lead bible studies, I pray with my kid brother at night. It's great. Love it. Or at least I did, until I came to grips with the fact that it makes me hate myself.

I'm not knocking Christianity. The idea that God--that anyone for that matter--would love a group of unabashed sinners enough much to sacrifice himself is beyond me. It's a beautiful concept: he sacs himself, we sac ourselves for him, everyone gets pie. But it's just that that's the problem: You can't make a perfect whole out of imperfect parts. No matter how much I try, I will always be not at the standard that I should be. I will never walk as I talk. I will never be true to my word. So long as I am Christian. And that thought is stifling. STIFLING. To the point that I want to deny a large part of my life as just some sick delusion of grandeur.

I mean, I guess that's how it is. But there's a part of me that is clinging to it like a lifesaver. Part of that is that I want to be good, healthy role-model for my younger brother, as well as for all the lil guys at church. Part of it is that I have never felt a high like the one I have shouting His name in triumph. But the other half screams at me that any mentoring I will do will be false, that any triumph is not mine to take.

With all of the voices, it's so hard to find my own.

Do Lone Wolves Feel Lonesome?

I don't have a roommate. Well, the housing office thinks I do, but he's shown up at "our" dorm literally three times since the semester began. At first I thought this was cool. But I think the lack of roommate plus lack of intimate relationship plus lack of social life is getting to me. I've never been one to put myself out there, but now I'm reconsidering my stance of social apathy. It's driving me insane.

The Knight Before the Storm--(SoC)

Yeah. It's a lame play on words. But that's how I feel often enough. I feel like I'm trying to live up to some outdated principles that no one else goes by anymore, and I have as little chance in living up to them as I do in beating back a tornado.

If it was only the tornado principles, I think I could handle it. I mean sure, cyclones make your heart explode, but I have a higher chance of anal cancer in my family than I do of heart attacks, so I'm not really fearing the whirlwind. No, what makes my journey difficult is the act wanting in and of itself; both wanting to succumb or wanting to persevere seem to be a constant plague. Either I feel regret for my soul or I feel a righteousness in its state, a mind-bending depression or a disgust with my entire surroundings; either way, I end up filled with hate for something.

It's ridiculous. If God wants me and I feel bad about it, I am feeling bad that the most powerful being in all existence--hell, the being that made existence--wants to be with me. It makes yo wonder, though. You would figure that an entity this powerful would be able to snap his proverbial fingers and not only would I not feel bad, but I'd be up there with him.

But maybe that's not what it's about. It's not about physically being with God, is it? It's about seeing him in the little things. Maybe if I can learn to see God in the little things, then it's no longer about adhering to a strict outdated list but about supporting a new friendship. Something to ponder, at least.