I had a lot of thoughts just now. I was playing "Hallelujah" on the piano, and that song brings out so much emotion, and I needed words and I needed this computer. I still have thoughts, ideas of my own. But I can't get away from Cohen's words. Each of them is amazing. But I can't get away from these:

Love is not a victory march,
it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

Cleanse Thyself

I want to take a hot bath.
Too bad our bathtub has a crappy glaze in which chunks of it (beneath our suctioned bath bat) flake off into the drain. I'm not sitting in that stuff.

Well, here goes another hot-then-cold-then-no-more-water-pressure-then-water-pressure-times-a-hundred shower.

Something I Wrote During Lit Crit

Why I should have peaked in the 60's

I'll live beneath a tree
and I'll eat the leaves
or fruit, if it's a fruit tree
And I'll dig holes,
significant rows of holes,
small holes in large rows
And I'll make a small deposit,
a fertilizer shit
to grow more trees, to create
a garden of trees
a garden of natural processes
a garden of earthy, uncombed tresses
I'll wear dirt and air and watery dresses
that grace and caress
the body--a garden
for gardens.

A Dip

I wish I was a happier person who could embrace all of life's confusing crossroads. Instead I let myself hunker into spiritual scarcity and a weary attitude. A depression, almost, but I won't consider it depression because I know my whiny self would only offend those who really really struggle with depression.

But Sense and Sensibility is running on repeat on my poor TV with a broken cable outlet thingy. My room's pile is thickening. I am more glued to my keyboard than my books. I don't like the sight of pictures, for many reasons. I'm disgusted by my face that constantly insists on breaking out. I mostly feel that taking a shower requires too much physical effort. My headaches are worsening and I can feel acidic bile constantly in my belly, a dreaded ball of decisions I'll need to make too soon. Decisions that may hurt people or even myself.

At this moment, why can't I just pray?! It seems logical in a spiritual, Christian life. But praying is SO HARD! I try. I do. I have to be in a drought. I'm still harboring hard feelings I thought I'd shaken off. Frustration will not leave. I feel so spiritually fake. Is my form of worship REAL worship? Or is it for show? God can't be pleased with me right now.

And confusion. Confusion is supposed to be of the devil. But if you learn things about yourself, the world, and God in the midst of confusion, is it so bad?

on movies

As a kid, I hated the 80s. The big hair, the music, the cheesy movies. I always thought I was born in the wrong decade.

Well, clearly, things have changed. The big hair...okay, maybe it's still a bit silly, but I am much more happy about the music and movies, no matter how cheesy they are. In fact, I am watching The Princess Bride as we speak. I absolutely love this movie. The humor is absolutely brilliant--you don't have humor like that much anymore.

In the midst of Oscar season, I have to say that though I do enjoy movies of most types, even the newer ones, I wish movies could be FUN again. Sadly, the most fun I've had at the theater is standing in line last year in November, waiting for the midnight premiere of Twilight. Yes, Twilight. I watched it at midnight, then 15 hours later for matinee.
No, I do not think Twilight is a great movie. The acting is very very questionable (aside from Anna Kendrick, who is nominated for Best Supporting Actress in Up in the Air...heck yea, girl), the dialogue is not good, and the directing is quite horendous. However, it was FUN.
Of course, I enjoy movies at home much more than the theater, since it's much cheaper and I can eat whatever I want. But movies like Princess Bride and the Breakfast Club...ohhh classics.

new musical obsession

If you like independent films, please please please rent "Once." It's a modern musical (don't worry, no dancing...it's just...I can't describe it, it's amazing!) Pretty much everything is acoustic guitar and piano, and Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova duet most of the way, and they are remarkable together.
They won an Oscar for best song in 2008 (I think), for "Falling Slowly." The two wrote all the music to the movie (sans one song, I think.) I can't stop singing it. So here are the lyrics. PLEASE listen to it. It is amazing.

I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You'll make it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing along

Bumfuzzled hoopla

I need a synonym for overwhelmed. Wordslike bumfuzzled or flabbergasted work, but if I say "I'm flabbergasted with life," you would be distracted with a word like "flabbergasted" and wouldn't pay as much attention to the meaning of the sentence. "I'm overwhelmed with life" sounds too trite and not at all attention-grabbing.

I really try to embrace my life options. The fact that I have so many choices is very, very nice. It's adventurous, yes, but it's so confusing. And people say, "keep praying, just keep praying." Here's where I hit another groove in my Christian tabula rasa of life.
We all know I suck at praying. I'm just bad. God has to have a lot of humor and frustration with my terrible prayer attempts. But if I pray for something once, why should I keep praying for it? God cannot like monotonous prayers. Sure, it shows our desires for things, but whether or not I pray for something--even answers--God knows my heart. So is repeating a request so useful? I wonder.

I ask God for answers quite often. But it doesn't mean he'll show them to me. It doesn't mean he will give me signs. He may not answer. I mean, doesn't God give people choices? Wouldn't he give us opportunities?

For fear of sounding redundant and quite immature, I'm cutting myself off now.