Neglect and all his friends

I noticed, the other day, that I hadn't written in what seems like a century. I then looked at the date of my last post, was reminded that my estimation was far from accurate. This, however, was the very least of my concerns.

My concern...

Sanity, clarity of thought, peace. These three are abundant when I write. God's gift to me, I assume. So why on earth do I make such goods friends with Neglect?
Good question

The answer?

I wish there was an apparent answer. Though, I know there is an answer and I will find it. Have no doubts of any sort (more for me than you).

My sollution...

Much like the popular sneaker maker slogan, I will do it (forget the just). This for me (though, I'm glad you read), so I shall treat it as such.

Writing for sanity's sake

In My Head

I want you to know that when I see you, I hear you. I hear your thoughts. You can't hide them. If you so much as blink I can see, hear, feel your mind flexing its pensive fingers over the situation in front of you. 

Don't think too much of it. I won't hold it over you. We all think. We can't help it. We shouldn't. 

Too many waste time trying to stop thinking, to stop being concerned with the "weight of the world." 

So sad,

We are the weight of the world.

Seeing your thoughts 

Wishing I was a Hero

I am sure of this fact: I am not the only one...

Not the only one that wishes, when the news shows photos of burning buildings and murderers, that I could do something to stop the madness, the horror, the evil.

I know I am not the only one.

"Super-powers" or not.

Without the secret lair, or the millions of dollars.

Not even a cape.

Just a mask that slightly obscures my eyes, but somehow keeps me a secret from the world.

Oh, to beat, mercilessly, the faces, and bodies of muggers, and rapists, thieves, and terrorists.
To be feared, by the guilty, and loved by the innocent, never taking credit, but always gaining satisfaction, knowing that world, or even just this city...maybe another...is just bit safer than it was before.
Hero, or vigilante.
Whatever the title...
I am not the only one...but I want to be

Secretly saving the world

Discovery

I love playing music.

That doesn't sound like much of a discovery considering, I knew that already, and so did everyone else.

However, after playing a short set yesterday with my good friend Natalie, I realized that the impact it has on me is one thousand times greater than what it may have on those hearing it.

I don't play for them, I don't even play for me.
What God makes me feel when I use the gift he gave me is worth so much more than a pat on the back or even selling a million copies of my CD (which I hope to record soonish).
I'm not saying don't come see us play, or buy CDs. I'm just recognizing the importance of giving thanks and honor where they are due, and asking you all to do the same as far as the music I play is concerned.


Still, don't hesitate to offer a hearty "Good job"

It would be greatly appreciated.

I love you all


Singing my thoughts

This is it...

I know so much.
I've done so much.
I am so much (of no fault of mine).

Though all of this is true, sitting here on the Earth makes it seem like it means nothing.
I could dictate paragraph after paragraph of angsty recollections of my thoughts and experiences as far this issue is concerned, but I realized quickly that there are more important things to address.

SUCH AS...

The fact that there is someone watching me...Not just watching me, but watching over me.
He is aware of what I know, what I've done, who I am.

IN FACT...

I know because He taught.
I've done because He has given me the chance.
I am because He made me.

TRUTH IS...

He knows so much more, has done so much, and he is so much more. And because of that, I need not worry what may happen, or not happen to me or around me.

"All things work together..."