frustration, thankfulness, etc.

note: i will probably come off as sounding self-focused and lamenting and bitter and ungrateful. and to some degree i am. i am aware of that. simple honesty and expression of thoughts/emotions is the aim.

i figured it out
my frustration
or part of it at least:

christianity basically aims to make me feel guilty that i am

i didn’t ask to be here. i didn’t ask to be born, to be alive. and yet here i am. which is all fine and good… except for the expectation that i then be thankful for that fact.  grateful for a ‘gift’ that you can’t prove i wanted to begin with.  and on top of that, as soon as i was conceived i was deemed sinful, not by anything i did, but by my very being, which i remind you i did not ask for.  and then, without my asking and before i existed, you died for me to cover for this inherent sin. and i, again, am expected to be eternally grateful. appreciative. in awe. awe that this little puppet was chosen to be born and deemed sinful and ‘redeemed.’ did i ask you to do that?

i am not saying i shouldn’t be thankful.
i am not saying i am not ‘sinful.’
i am not saying i am not grateful for life.
but these expectations are frustrating.

i am thankful for the trees that reveal their thin and wiry frames every winter and create dappled shadows on my shower curtain every spring. i am thankful for the sun that paints the sky each morning and evening with its fiery tendrils and the way the clouds morph before my eyes as they glide across the purest blue imaginable.  i am thankful for the expanse of the darkened sky and the glittering reminder of the vastness of creation. i am thankful for people who see and care and think and imagine and create and love and cherish and laugh and cry and smile and listen. i am thankful for those deep and satisfying tones that resonate from the cello and how perfectly they can compliment the easy, playful ukulele and the wonderfully common acoustic guitar. i am thankful for my eyes to see this world, my ears to hear it, my nerves and skin to feel it.

so god. i am thankful. maybe not for the “right” things. but i am pretty sure you know that already. i need to say it anyway.

frustration, thankfulness, etc.

a statement?

why is it that i tend to think and speak and write and talk in questions rather than statements?  am i afraid of a fight?  of getting stuck defending a position that i was unsure about to begin with? am i afraid of failing? of being proven wrong? is it reflective of my approach towards life? is it because i think it broadens the conversations? do statements shut down conversation? are my questions really statements and i am just pretending they aren’t? do i actually believe they are unbiased and without answer? [some perhaps. not that one.] do we not question enough? or are we too skeptical? do we accept the status quo too readily? is this all just me, inside my own head?

will someone converse with me on design, theology, philosophy, psychology, and science all in one conversation?

i guess we’ll see.

a statement?

( o o )

every morning i delicately circle the only feature deemed worthy of attention.

who taught me that?

can we not notice unless we point, highlight, circle? do we need to be told where to look, what to care about, where to focus? [insert advertisement here] are we not capable of determining that ourselves? no longer capable of hearing whispers? [hearing aid] have we lost all attention to detail?

we and i and them and us and you and they

who am i? what is my role? what is my goal?
what is the [role/goal] of society?
the [role/goal] of a(n) [writer, architect, artist, designer, poet]?
why ask questions? what questions to ask?
what questions to answer?


are we making

o o

eye contact?

– –

o o

( o o )


Written with an eloquence I could only dream of, these thoughts have surfaced in my mind many times (less virtual simulation, more puppet show/zoo) and now I have an incredibly interesting conversation to eavesdrop on.

russell & pascal

The 5th grader noticed one of his apps had auto-updated on his quantum iPhone 72, so he opened it.

He watched as multiple fluctuations began to appear and disappear randomly in all shapes and sizes — sometimes bumping into each other and merging, sometimes exploding. He zoomed into one of the isolated bubbles and saw nothing but emptiness. In another bubble he saw white hot plasma. Time sped up and he watched it cool and dissipate into nothing as the bubble disappeared. Many more bubbles began to form. One expanded and collapsed again, causing part of the bubble to grow back out the other side. Some bubbles expanded so quickly some of the simulated energy cooled to form superheated matter, which eventually cooled further and began to clump together. He zoomed into one in time to see countless clumps collapse into beautiful stars which exploded into heavy elements that coalesced…

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