Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Is blogging bad for relationship making?

Never mind blogging being bad for my desire to hand-write.

I had an ex tell me (while we were still talking, but as exes... don't ask) that he didn't like reading my blog because he felt like he was spying on me. Spying on my mind, that is. He couldn't seem to understand how I could be able to put myself out there, why I couldn't not write about the ex, (if he was reading this now, he wouldn't understand why I even linked an entry back to the ex) etc. I couldn't understand that which he didn't seem to understand.

I had another male tell me today, after asking if he could read some of my blogs (I definitely wasn't jumping to tell him that I had one, because I knew what would follow: see rest of sentence), that he felt like he. was. inside. my. head. (I wish this was a salacious reference to head, but alas, it is not.) I, immediately agitated, informed him that he wasn't seeing a tenth of what was inside my head, which is relatively true.* Again, I was faced with the same commentary, this time from a guy I didn't know.

For me, I don't understand: I'm a writer. I often tell people I'm a writer immediately after meeting them. It's a very big deal for me, clearly. So in telling people that I am a writer, I feel that it should be generally understood that I write. Yes, I write about sex. Yes, I write about things I don't like. Yes, I write about love. Yes, I write about exes. (Usually all of them, but especially those of whom serve as muses to me.) I write about all of these things because writing is about self-expression. All of these things have to do with life, my life in particular, so therefore, I write about them. What is hard to understand about that? What is peculiar about that?

Is my relationship with my writing destined to cause my relationships with men to become a type of third wheel?

Is my blogging bad for my relationship building? Maybe if I'm trying to build a relationship with a guy (which usually, quite frankly happens unintentionally), it's not the best idea that he has full access to some, though not all, of my thoughts on things like dating, sex, and the male species. But, when he talks to me and gets to know me, won't he end up hearing these things... anyway?

And, an even better question: do I care enough about the building of relationships with men to alter my blogging habits?

It's kind of too late for me to author this blog under a pseudonym or as a completely anonymous entity... and even if I did, how would I tell anyone about it without letting them know that it's my writing?

So, I just stumbled across this bomb ass blog! Yeah... I know the writing looks like mine, but it's not me, I swear... yeah, I know some of these lines sound like my Facebook statuses, but this really isn't my website... oh, who writes this stuff? I don't even know, man...

Really? I don't think so. Part of the joy of writing is that I know when I give you an entry, I'm giving you something I have personally had some type of experience with. I'm not writing about love having never experienced it. I'm not writing about the succulence of an orgasm without having tasted one. I'm not writing about the pang of heartbreak without having felt my heart shatter. To me, that's what artists do. They draw from within themselves to express something to their audience. So, I'm giving it to you straight.

Sure, maybe it makes guys feel weird to read my blog. Well, unfortunately for them, this is something about me that's not going anywhere. I love my craft too much to think of altering it for the sake of someone liking me. Or rather, it's not the liking, it's the acceptance. Acceptance is probably the most single thing we all crave.* Well, I'm not seeking acceptance either. I feel I've reached a point in my life where I'm kind of sick of trying to mold myself into some proper fashion for a man. Isn't that what we girls are brought up doing, anyway? Molding ourselves to be marketable to men?

Well, I don't care. Take me as I am or don't take me at all. If this shit is uncomfortable for you to read, by all means, don't read it. I'm still going to be writing regardless of whether the ubiquitous them feel okay with it or not.

And nope, this isn't a secret message that I was too scared to say, it's just a reminder to myself to not compromise my vision just because other people can't see it.

It's also a reminder to not do something that makes me uncomfortable just because it makes someone else comfortable.

*I tend to make up statistics and numbers for the sake of the argument at hand. What... scientists do it too.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

so much to say...

I've been reading and deep in thought all morning. So deep in thought I know I look aggravated and like I don't want to be bothered. Because I don't want to be bothered.

There are some things I would like to say, to no one in particular, yet to everyone, even to myself:

From now on, when you speak, men, I'll listen. when you say you don't love me, I'll believe you. when you say you want to have sex with me, but do nothing else, I'll believe you. and when I act accordingly, please don't be alarmed. I'm just listening to you.

I no longer feel the pressure to be cordial. Maybe it's the working with the kids, maybe they are turning me into a crab, or maybe, just maybe the invisible veil that's been above my head forever is starting to burn away in life's myriad scintilla... I don't know, but if I don't like you, you'll probably know. If you piss me off because you persist to use my things when we don't have a relationship like that, you'll probably know. I'm not confrontational (except when extremely provoked), so no, I might not tell you, but my body certainly will.

One of these days, I'm going to drop the routine, run out on a limb, and steal away to the place of my dreams. And I'll probably regret it when I get there. But I will do it.

*exhale* My head feels a little lighter now.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

"Black brotha, I love ya..."

People frequently criticize what they don't understand. I, admittedly, am not very good with criticism. Either I suck it inside and ponder over it for very long periods of time until I gain some understanding of where it comes from, or it turns my ears hot. This probably isn't very abnormal--most people don't like being criticized. It turns your peers into your superiors, and nobody likes being subordinate to someone else. (At least, I know I don't.)

In conversation with he-who-shall-not-be-named, I was once criticized because I haven't dated heavily outside of my race. (Before we even get into this discussion, let me first state that this criticism was fallacious, because I haven't dated heavily at all, and I feel this criticism is better rendered if the person in question has dated lots of people.) All of the guys that I have been involved with have been racially black. Despite their all falling into the same racial category, they ave had different ethnicities. (Jamaican, Haitian, Dominican, African-American, etc.)

First, I must say I'm really tired of all this post-racial bullshit that people are trying to get into now that Obama is the President. People who didn't give two shits about racial issues before are now trying to be all PC and concerned and shit. Anyhow, this particular criticism of me came from someone who seems to feel that dating all around the color wheel is the key to some upper-echelon intellectualism that clearly, I must not be a part of. (I know. He didn't know who he was talking to. It's cool.) That's all well and good, but the criticism was given to me as if I refuse to date people who are not Black. Since we're supposed to be in this post-race world, I don't even know why color matters so much, but besides that, the only reason I've been involved with people who are all racially Black is because no one who is racially different has caught and held my attention, nor I theirs. At least not at a time that was conducive to anything really happening. And considering how I've seriously dated all of two people, I'm sure I've got plenty of time to play around the color wheel. Pretty simple explanation to a pretty one-dimensional criticism.

If this seems like it's coming out of nowhere, it's not. I was in the car this morning, and I heard Angie Stone's "Brotha," which I haven't heard in a while.

He is my King, He is my one/
Yes he's my father, Yes he's my son/
I can talk to him, cuz he understands/
Everything I go through and everything I am/
He's my support system, I can't live without him/
The best thing since sliced bread,/
Is his kiss, his hugs, his lips, his touch/
And I just want the whole world to know, about my../

(Chorus)Black Brotha, I love ya,/
I will never - try to hurt ya/
I want ya, to know that,/
I'm here for you - forever true/
cuz you're my/
Black Brotha, strong brotha,/
there is no - one above ya/
I want ya, to know that,/
I'm here for you - forever true

And when I heard it, I smiled. And then I frowned, because I remembered this criticism. (From someone who is Black! I could see if you were white and complaining about me not dating outside my race but your ass is clearly a part of my race...)
Ummm... what's wrong with wanting to support the men of your own race? I don't understand when everything shifted... I'm not saying don't date outside of your race because it's bad--no, not at all. I do what I want to do, and regardless of what color you are, if I like you, honey, I like you. But what's so bad about the support system?

Black men have to put up with a lot of bullshit--Black women constantly talking about how there are no good Black men left (which isn't true), the Black men who are trying to do the right thing who are overshadowed by the ones who are trying to be fucking rappers and shit (not that there's anything wrong with that, but is that the only career some Black people think is available?), and even the Black men who are trying to make it but are a little misguided. What's wrong with trying to show them a little love?

Our Black support network has been shattered by issues of economics and class. I feel like we used to be in it for each other, but now we've segregated ourselves (or have we been segregated by socioeconomics?) and we're only worried about what's going on in our little circle.

I don't know. I haven't formed a very precise argument for this; this is all just coming from inside my heart. But I do have a question: why do we, as Black people, spend so much time now putting each other down, instead of lifting each other up? What has happened to us?

a complaint for the ages

This morning, when I was standing in the school's courtyard, ready to be off work for the morning, these boys decided that it would be particularly appropriate to curse each other out in front of me. One boy was getting further aggravated and started saying, well, I bet you won't hit me though, I bet you won't hit me; then he implored the other boy who was taunting him to go ahead and hit him. I broke them up (by saying "goodbye!!" in the aggravated way I do when children are getting on my nerves), but the exchange left me in an intellectual funk.

(my thoughts during this exchange)

A: is chivalry dead? Yes, I know I curse, and no, I'm not necessarily offended when people curse in front of me, but do young men no longer have the respect not to curse in front of a lady? Call me old-school, but I think that's a rule that needs to be reinstated.

B: so, we just curse in front of adults now? The boys were very well aware that I was looking at them, and after I shooed them away, the one boy (of course, the shortest thing in the whole group) who was talking shit continued cursing... and I was right there. I don't know, back in my days in middle school, yes, I cursed like a sailor (I guess I had to learn at some point), but I would have died and dug my own grave before I let an adult hear me curse. I would have never cursed in front of an adult, because I was brought up with the mindset that you respect your elders. Even today, when I go to my grandparents' house, I don't even curse while I'm there. Not even if they aren't home or they are out of earshot. It just doesn't feel right.

C: why, Black people, why? Yeah, there was a white boy in the group with them, and yes, I'm very well aware of the fact that a bad ass kid is going to be bad regardless of what color he is, but it alarms me that more frequently than not, the bad ass kids I find myself disgusted with are the ones who are the same skin color as me. When I'm at work in the morning, I look at the majority of the white children and the majority of the black children. The majority of the white children look and behave like children. The majority of the black children, however, look and behave like wanna-be adults. (Yes, these are generalizations, made for the point of my argument.) No, it's not as easy of a problem to solve as one-dimensional minds may imagine. I know this disparity between these two groups can be attributed to so many factors--from the changes in the Black family set-up, to socioeconomic factors, to the media, to the ubiquity of missing fathers, etc. But, I'm starting to feel like people are using all of this as an excuse to behave in an ignorant fashion. You know, the I don't have a dad/I grew up in the hood/the man is against me so I'm x, y, z, etc. But I've seen too many stories, heard too many tales of people who had these same set of circumstances and who decided that they could be more than a Nicki Minaj or a Plies or an Allen Iverson. (Not that there's anything wrong with Allen Iverson.)

I don't know. I just don't get it. I've said this many times: I know we are living in a supposed post-racial society, and Barack Obama is our president, and the Civil Rights Movement is over and blah blah blah everything is supposed to be so advanced and people are supposed to be so much better than they were fifty odd years ago. Well, I don't really think so.

Fifty odd years ago, yeah, we had some backwards laws, and we had some backwards practices, and a lot of things happened that weren't right. But look around you... there's still a lot of shit happening that isn't right. Okay, so now lynching is against the law, but there are people still getting hung from trees. Just because you don't see it on your local news doesn't mean it's not happening. Hate crimes have now taken on a more subtle approach. People are still getting beat down by the police. They just don't use hoses anymore.

And now, to make everything worse, I feel like the tenacity that upheld the Black race as a whole somehow splintered and frequents certain areas of the race, but definitely does not affect the entire race. It seems like, in my parents' time, Black people as a whole had some set of standards, because it seemed like the country as a whole had some set of standards. And yes, you know I hate conformity, but I feel like some of these standards might have been beneficial. Now it seems like everyone cares, but about the wrong things.

Ugh. This has gone on a tangent. Talking about this subject is easier than writing about it, because when I want to erase and start a thought over, all I have to do is stop speaking, rather than picking up my eraser. (Or hitting my backspace button multiple times.)

I don't know. I just know that something is going on, and that it's not good.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

lessons for the future, if you'll allow yourself to learn...

I heard this song on the radio yesterday, and I wasn't listening to the lyrics, because I was trying to figure out why the voice sounded so familiar. Well, the voice is familiar because it's my friend Vivian Green (I'm on an emotional, rollercoaster...) and I have one of her old albums. Haven't listened to it in a while, but I have always been a fan of her voice.

Well, her new single, "Beautiful" sounds like we went to lunch, I told her what I was going through, and she wrote this song for me. This is what I was trying to explain to him, this is what I meant when I told him one day he would understand. This song represents the adulthood of emotions. This is how I feel. I hope one day he'll get it.

I don't want to waste an entire album on you
I've been there, done that (yeah)
And I don't want to tell who, what, when, where, why and how
Cause who cares
No, nobody cares

But I hope you soon find out how to love
Once upon a time you wanted to learn
I thought I could teach you but you were more afraid
than willing
So when it comes don't push it away
One day you will find it is the greatest gift
And I hope you don't take advantage of it again

Hold her when she wants to be held
Don't yell at her when she's only trying to love you
Take her to her favorite place
more often than not
Don't take her kindness for weakness
'Cause I'm sure she'll love you alot
Support her in all that she does
Don't tear her down, lift her up
'Cause that is the worst thing you can do to someone you love
Put her high on a pedestal and tell her when she looks beautiful
Tell her when she looks beautiful

I used to think that I could not bear you to be with anyone but me
But I been there, done that (yeah)
And since then I have come to think silly of that whole mentality
I still want to find love too
No it won't be with you
I wish for everyone to one day find happiness and love
Including you (yeah)
And I don't want to go into details 'cause I've said enough
And its not my intent to hurt you no

But I hope you soon find out how to love
Once upon a time you wanted to learn
I thought I could teach you but you were more afraid
than willing
So when it comes don't push it away
One day you will find it is the greatest gift (gift)
And I hope you don't take advantage of it again

Hold her when she wants to be held
Don't yell at her when she's only trying to love you
Take her to her favorite place
more often than not
Don't take her kindness for weakness
'Cause I'm sure she'll love you alot
Support her in all that she does
Don't tear her down, lift her up
'Cause that is the worst thing you can do to someone you love
Put her high on a pedestal and tell her when she looks beautiful
Tell her when she looks beautiful

Tell her when she looks beautiful

Tell her when she looks beautiful

April 2008 to 2009 to 2010

The passage of time fascinates me. The evolution of people interests me. Going back and reading the things I write is my passageway to the person I once was, and contrary to what you might think, I actually don't go back and read over my own writing very often. So, when I do look back at things I've said (sometimes a year, or a couple years after I initially said it/thought it), I usually am greeted with a nice surprise.

Sometimes, the feelings that I had are no more, and sometimes I still have them. Sometimes I am surprised at my own insight, or at my own folly. Reading things that I have written years in the past is intriguing to me, because it offers me the opportunity to be detached from the writing that has come from my very fingertips. (Especially if the writing pertains to experiences or emotions I no longer have.) So, it's like reading something that someone else wrote. Sometimes I am surprised at my own eloquence, or at the force of my own words. It is at these times when I am reminded that the gift comes from beyond me, not from me.

Last April, I apparently said I was ready to fly.

My head was ready, but my heart wasn't.

Now they are both aligned, and I've got that same feeling I had the April two years in the past, right when I was preparing to graduate.

That April, after having a like/hate relationship (mostly hate) with Gainesville for so long, I finally settled and forgave myself for my mistakes of that first August. And right when it was time for me to leave, I got the feeling that I have now: awww man, everything's finally fallen into place. That sensation is exactly what tells me it's time to go.

I'd finally settled into Gainesville; I had my best friend (after much prayer for one), and I felt like Gainesville and I had finally come into accord with one another. Of course, this happened when it was time for me to leave. But I knew it was time to go.

And now, with two months before I call another city my home, I've got that sensation again. Things have fallen into place. I've got another best friend (again, after much prayer), I've got some really great, funny people that I know and hang out with. I've started to enjoy the kids I work with more than I did when I started with them. Though my hometown and I never had the problems Gainesville and I did, it took us a second to settle into some type of relationship with one another.

And now that we have one, it's time to go. Time to go through the growing pains (which are becoming less painful) of adjusting to more new surroundings. I made a promise to myself a while ago, and though I'm not sure whether I was just bullshitting with myself or not, I promised myself that I wouldn't let myself get too comfortable. I don't ever want to be complacent. I want to always be super-aware, always ferociously experiencing what life has to offer. I don't want to fall into routine; don't want to set myself up for the recliner of middle age.

So, I am comfortable. And because of that, it's time to shake things up again. Well, not quite time yet, but it's coming. And as always, I might not be ready, but I know it's time.


--if the garbage can is full, take the garbage out. don't continually place garbage in it until you can't close it.
--if you don't care for someone, don't make conversation with them as though you do. be civilly silent.
--if you love someone, tell them. don't be afraid.
--if you don't want to be around someone anymore, don't be around them. don't think you're doing them a favor by not telling them the truth.
--if you're addressing a problem with someone, address them. don't address someone next to them as though the person you have a problem with is not there.
--understand your place, know your role, and play them. until you find a way to transcend them.
--if you like someone, let them know. if you don't like someone, don't act as if you do.
--if you need to fix something, fix it. don't wait for someone else to do it for you.

I just don't understand people. Maybe I never did, and maybe it's not my place to understand people, but alas, I have tried. And have not been successful overall. I just don't get why people do the things that they do. Why people can't talk to people they want to, but people will make conversation with people they don't care for. Why people put off shit that they see looming in their face. I'm sorry, I just don't get it. Am I the only person who understands that we are living on borrowed time? Have the recent string of earthquakes and lately, the volcano, not been proof of that?

Just don't get it.

Monday, April 19, 2010

more randomness before washing the dishes

:: I love the sound of the rain. If tonight wasn't the beginning of my reality tv week (suspend judgment, please), I'd turn the tv off and listen to the rain hit the windows; the top of the townhouse; the asphalt outside. It always puts me in such an artistic mood. And it always calls to mind the evening I know I will one day experience-- a rainy night in New York City. It's just so artsy, I've got to do it.

:: I guess there was no need to tease *him* about how he broke my necklace, because I clearly just broke it, only a month or so after buying a new chain. Geeez, I wore the necklace every single day for at least a year before it started deciding to break all the time. I blame it on the hard water here where I live now. No, I have no proof of this, but I know that's what it is.

:: Reality tv has really sucked me in this year. I usually avoid reality tv like I avoid the clap, but this year, it's got me. American Idol, Dancing With the Stars, Brandy and Ray J, What Chilli Wants, Basketball Wives... I don't think I'm going to complain about reality tv anymore. Because now I understand it. It appeals to the voyeur in all of us. The chance for us to watch the tragedy and the comedy of other people's lives without being judged for it? That's why reality tv is still so damn popular.

:: Truthfully, I started this list before DWTS came on. And then it came on. And now I've lost my steam. It happens. *Kanye shrug*

:: (I've started stealing catchy, trendy phrases lately. From smh to *Kanye shrug*, I like them. I don't like trends generally, but word trends are different. I love words. So clearly, I can't avoid my affinity for all words.)

The eager beaver does not please me... and no, that was not a sexual pun...

A quick thought:

I've written about the male radar before (you know, when you either break up with someone/get into a relationship etc. and men you haven't talked to in forever come out of the woodwork trying to see what's up with you) and it has been proven true again... maybe it was because that Friday I complained because I didn't feel any love in my text message inbox, but my texts haven't shut up since.

Okay, so I already know the radar works. Men have been coming out of the woodwork... and I'm not complaining. The attention is always welcome (when I want it, that is). But, I do have one complaint: why are men so damn eager these days?

Now I really understand some of the complaints men have about women who are too eager or who make themselves too available. I don't like when men I don't know and have no connection with text or call me as if they have nothing to do, no job to go to... you get the idea. I mean, maybe they are just being nice, and maybe I'm just being rude... but still. I don't know you. So shouldn't you not text me all day long?

And don't even get me started on this phenomenon of asking for pictures... I can't count the number of times I've had a dude say send me a pic... excuse you? Again, I don't know you. And clearly, you don't want a picture of my face, so I think this picture asking is not going to go over too well... I mean, with all the technology we have, people are starting to forget how people used to date... you know, you meet someone nice, you chat with them slightly, and then you go out on a date with them... so you can see their actual face and hear their actual voice, rather than depending on pictures and messages from your phone.

Ugh, the things these young men have taught me... their eagerness disturbs me. Sure, maybe I've made myself too available to some more like one person because I actually enjoy his company and anyone who really knows me knows how damn rare that is but apparently he thought i was too available and that's fine but I know for a fact I have not been eager the way these men have been.

And thanks to what they've shown me, I never will be. Ugh!

April 19th randomness

: it's funny how having painted toes makes me love my feet and not care who sees them. (i am notorious for hiding my toes because i don't like them.)

: when i first started drinking, i noticed that the "inside" me was pretty bold. and i started liking that girl. i'm starting to see more traces of that girl with less and less alcohol. i likes this.

: for the first time that i can ever remember, i know for a fact that i don't want a romantic relationship with someone. i've finally reached a place where i understand the nature of love and feelings and that just because you're not in a relationship doesn't mean you won't have feelings, and vice versa. a romantic relationship is a lot of work, work that i don't want. i'd just rather have my lots of feelings and have my fun. (hard wink.)

: it's funny how people grow on you. who would have thought that he and i would be sitting, watching basketball, wrestling, joking, and drinking honey ginger tea? i'm not complaining at all.

: i can truly feel my God with me in a way that i never have before. and Lord knows i've been calling on Him heavy lately. but He is here :)

: i love online shopping. the excitement of anticipating the delivery of your goods.

: i love music. i don't know what i would do without music.

: i am happy. with myself, and with my life. i would not trade it, not even for a million dollars, a billion cupcakes, or a trillion diamonds.

He is clearly on my side, praise Him

so it started as
something to make the other party feel
poorly for their rudeness
but what i didn't realize
was that when i told him
God's got my heart
that i was speaking from inside myself
from inside the heart
God is protecting with His very hands.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

"Forever, forever..."

I was riding in the car this morning, in a bit of a typical funk, just daydreaming, singing along with the radio when I realized the words I was repeating and was shocked back to consciousness.

I want you to be, the only one for me forever and ever and ever and ever and ever.... (Babyface, "Never Keeping Secrets")

I think it was the repeating of "forever and ever" that brought me back. My first thought was, "man, it must be nice to have someone telling you they want to be with you forever." (I wouldn't know anything about that.) But then, more pressingly, I asked myself, "why are we humans so concerned with things lasting forever?"

If you listen to any great, good, or even mediocre "love" song, you will usually find a reference to "forever" in the song. And I'm sure you probably sing along, daydreaming about flowers and long smiles in candlelight and sitting in a rocking chair growing old with the love of your life.

My point is not to be bitter in any way, but to be realistic: why are we so concerned with forever (?) when we are forced to logically accept the fact that nothing lasts forever?**

It starts in childhood... we call our friend our best friend forever (BFF). And on and on and on. But, nothing lasts forever. It just does not.

So, instead of focusing on how long something is supposed to last, why don't we just focus on the feelings instead? Could it be that maybe people are sacrificing the quality for the quantity? Who cares how great it is, just as long as it lasts forever...

There are so many thoughts that are implanted in our heads before we have a chance to formulate our own methods of reasoning. Don't get me wrong: like any red-blooded female, of course I would love to have someone tell me they want to be with me forever. That's actually kind of important to me. But, could it be dangerous to want someone to want me forever, knowing that nothing can last forever?** Just a thought.

And dance forever-ever-ever, forever-ever-ever, forever-ever-ever, forever... (Chris Brown, "Forever")

Always and forever, each moment with you, is just like a dream to me, that somehow came true, and I know tomorrow, will still be the same, cuz we've got a life of love, that won't ever change... (Luther Vandross/Heatwave, "Always and Forever")

Many lovers has come and many lovers have gone, similar to an old fashioned song (a thousand years from now, we'll be still puttin' it down my baby), you can change the frame, but the picture, remains the same, similar to the sun after the rain (a thousand years from now, we'll be still puttin' it down my baby), baby girl in other words forever more, I'll be here... (R. Kelly, "Step in the Name of Love")

See... that last example didn't even make sense. I know R. Kelly speaks in his own language but damn... that was basically just a reason to talk about being around someone forever. I guess I just wonder how people deal when they get married, planning to be together forever and then their spouse files for divorce or leaves, or when someone passes away when they are supposed to be here forever... how do we, as humans, effectively deal with the ending of things when we set ourselves up mentally for a perpetual existence?

**this is me playing Devil's Advocate... I do believe that entities like love last forever, so although "nothing" can last forever, I think it is possible to want someone forever.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Scrabble scramble








Just keep swimming...


I gotta start planning for this move.

I have no money for this move.

I might not be able to work this summer and save money like I wanted to.

I have to get furniture.

I need new tires. (Immediately.)

I need more money.

It seems like every time I clear one thing out of the way, something else falls in my path.

I'm not complaining to you. I'm just trying to remind myself that God is CLEARLY putting in significant work on me, because I don't think I've ever felt quite so stretched thin before.


It's cool though. I'm still swimming. I just needed to vent that.

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