wFeb 1, 2006

but love is not a victory march / it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

Sometimes it's strange going back over old writing, particularly private journals, and realizing how much things change over the span of years, of months, of weeks.

My new cellphone came in the mail today. Tomorrow I need to journey to a UPS place so I can send the old one to the company. Whether or not I can get to a Sprint store before doing this will determine whether I get my phonebook downloaded or just say screw it and get the numbers all over again. Conversing with Sprint employees is difficult.

I worked hard on homework again today. Still not enough, but I think these English assignments will be done by section, and there are a few gems of competence included.

Anniversaries can be sad, and it seems like the most horrible times in my life are the ones with the best detail-recall. It's been almost exactly two years since Father Jim gathered us after a Youth Mass and told us Matt had killed himself. I remember staring at him, and then slowly around the group and realizing that he and Shane and Sarah were all crying, and wait - what? and going into the church bathroom and sinking to the floor. Sitting in class that week, trapped by desks and useless, trivial conversation and "why aren't you smiling?!"s and wondering if things would ever not seem useless again.

We spend our lives driven by worthless things, pushing people away and only saying what our norms allow us to say. Bowing down to expectations and constantly denying reality and ignoring the pain of people we encounter, our friends, our relatives. It is only when confronted with death that we realize how important it is to live life.

I guess I really don't know what else to say except to repeat what I wrote in my blog a couple of days after it happened. I don't remember writing it at all, which is weird for me because when it comes to writing, I can remember where I was, what put me in the mood, and why I wrote it. Anyway.

I wish everyone could feel comforted when they felt hopeless. Or loved when they felt lonely. But I guess all I can do is pray, that God will take all of our brokenness, and hold it in the palm of His hand, close it, open it, and we'll all be whole again.

Current Music: Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley
scribbled mystickeeper at 1:17 AM

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