Michael of the Faith

Normal people bore me.

Or perhaps not bore me, but just don't interest me. If you don't have a quirk, a past, or just something plain odd about you, I am probably not going to pay you much attention. I appreciate that some people are the same person they were 3, 10, 50 years ago, same faith, same town, same demeanor, but I don't find them worthy of notice.

( Loooong Post )

I hope it's gonna make you notice ... Someone like me.

I'm the hero of this story, don't need to be saved.

I always end up home. What is it with my life that does that? Now it is like it was before I moved into the apartment. I am unemployed, and getting depressed.

One thing that is looking up in my life, is my faith. I am very comfortable with it, and I am very glad I have it, but it does not help the situation any more than comforting me and allowing me serenity to think rationally about all of this.

Even if I get a job, I will have no way to get to and from it. I don't have a license, and even if I did, I don't have a car. I have ruined my opportunity to be a student, an opportunity I will not be able to afford until I am 24.

Money has become scarce, and I need a full time job. Why am I unhireable? I have no other place to live, considering I don't have anyone to room with.

I'm in a relationship with a girl I don't love (but i should.)
I have no money.
Bills to pay.
Nowhere to go.
Living off other people.

I am a bum.

Toil and trouble
Bubbles o bubbles
Do you see what i create
A pot of hysteria and madness
No life to give it
No means to support it
Yet I love you still lingers
at the tip of my tongue
to spill into the mix
and combust into a thousand injuries
or overflow a healing liquid

A child needs a father
But what makes a man
a father worthy of the title 

Blend the perfect chai spice
Put said chai spice in perfect tea
Liberate small country
See Regina Spektor live
See Explosions in the Sky live

It has been a while since a post on here, I have nothing really to say. I'm alive, and I guess that counts for something.

Trace the lines of eternity
Hope that they come back to you
Perhaps it's what you need
to know a purpose
that is yours alone
Its importance is trivial
The trance while moving
your finger through the air
is enough to make you
feel your place in the
vast
        vast
                vast
                        Universe

I think I finally have a shot at getting a job. I am going to get an interview tomorrow, so that is good. I will probably be working in the kitchen at Deano's. It will be hard work, but I really need the money.

Wish me luck.

Overall, this recent moving experience has been a hell. I don't know why we are doing it, there is nothing really different about us living here.
I am stressed out now, because I have been moving furniture for 12 hours the past 2 days, have missed chances to hang out with friends, and am sore as hell.

I need a break.

Someone save me.

O how can I deny
a dream in my arms
Let me smell the scent
not real yet enticing
That I may lay here
and create a fantasy
One in which I will live
Please say that it is real
so it won't dissolve in
the palm of my hands
Only so I may keep you
lying in my arms asleep

I looked up at the clock. Its face was clearly white, contrasting against the more cream color of the building. It had three large spires, the one in the middle was the tallest and had a cross shape at its peak. A statue of a forgotten person stood proudly in front, as if celebrating victory in a forgotten war. Though I had always passed by the building on my way to school, I had never actually looked at it. Never had I really thought about its existence. Old things are what it reminded me of. Forgotten things, ideas, people. Things no one thought about anymore. The chains of the past.

As if out of a trance, I remembered of my being late. Thinking of such things would not help in school. The more I tried not to think about it, the image became more ingrained into my thought. All the way to school it was on my mind. Daydreams of it made it hard to focus in class. I was wondering about what it meant to those who made it. I wanted to know what they saw it as. I was inquiring of the past, something forbidden.

The instructor drew on the white board two lines in a cross shape.

"What is this?" he inquired.

"It is a symbol of religion," one student answered. For the first time in history class, I was paying attention. The symbol he had drawn was the same as the one on the peak of the spire. I was eager to listen.

"Does anyone know what religion means?" No one answered. I don't think anyone knew the right answer. He continued, "Religion is an archaic institution. As recent as a century ago, people believed in a supernatural being called God. People worshiped this being and believed that he was omnipotent, that he was all powerful. Our society has evolved in thought since then, and we now know that religion is a false institution and that there is no such being as God. All that religion did was to enslave people and wage wars. History is filled with wars that were caused by a conflict in religion. The largest and most recent conflict was the Arabian Wars, which started in 2003 when the United States invaded Iraq, and ended with the destruction of several key religious centers such as Mecca, and Jerusalem, and the downfall of the United States as a world power in 2079."

He continued to lecture, but I knew that he wasn't saying something. I knew that there had to be more to religion than being a warmongering institution. I had to know more.

"The practice of religion is now banned by measures taken by the United Nations after the Arabian Wars, in order to maintain world peace," he continued to lecture as my mind wandered into thoughts of what a God could be. I of course had no idea what a supernatural being would be like. I raised my hand, interrupting his lecture.

Surprised that I of all people had a question, he asked, "Yes, Jon?"

"What is God?" The question stunned him. He hesitated to answer. As any good instructor should do, he said what he was required to say.

"God does not exist." I could tell that was not what he meant. The bell rang to leave.

I walked home that afternoon. As I passed the old building with its tall spires and its bold clock face, I couldn't help but to stare. The building had been turned into a museum. There was a bustle of people with small children entering and exiting the building.

I decided to take a look at the inside of the thing that captivated me so much. I approached, anticipation building up in me.

"Four dollars," said the woman behind the glass. I dug into my pocket and managed to scrounge up four blue bills emblazoned with the face of Johannes Holdt, the Secretary General of the UN who averted world war in the early 2080's.

Corporeal, you embedded yourself
Into my conscience, and now
Transparent, you become
Intangible, but I wonder
When I recall you,
Do you become real,
Whole again?
Can I make you real
As my mind believes?
Beyond all sense,
Yet completely felt?
As though the body
Is still there, though
It is forever gone?

Blossoms on the table
We sat across each other
A twist in a fairy tale
We conquered all
We lied about that
The dragon burned the village
If only the yellow glow
Didn't make the sky so pretty

So I decided to join Live Journal.  I will be writing more in here, hopefully. I have actually posted one, predated. Read it. If you would like to ask.