Perfect Friday

Trapped beneath the new, top of the line 46" Samsung LED HDTV in the car ride home from Kenosha, where the sales tax is 5.5%, I was out of it. Partly awake, mostly hallucinating and asleep. Occassionally, we'd hit a pot hole, and I'd open my eyes to the giant brown box hovering over me. I vaguely remember this epiphanic moment I had with myself, this spritual conversation, this universal question. I tell everyone that I am a Christian, and surely, I am. I believe Jesus Christ died for our sins, I believe He will come again. And recently, people only show their worst either from fighting for that last ButterBall frozen turkey or for that last ticket outside of target for the Apex TV. I often find this prayer a necessity. Praying for patience and for a bigger heart. I'd say that one of my greatest sins, is my weakness to forgive others. Depends on my mood and my day, I can easily snap and bitch with no mercy. I try very hard to swallow that fire, I try so hard to keep myself from committing that sin. Then I thought about infinite possibilities. I'm trying so hard to not sin, but for an ultimate goal of being sinless. But that is impossible! Does sinlessness=perfection? I suppose so. So by trying to stop myself from sinning, I'm trying to be perfect. And we all know that only God/Jesus Christ is perfect. So I am trying to be God. Damn, I suck.
And beneath that cardboard box, I questioned myself, 'How does one become a perfect person, making no mistakes in an entire life?' Thoughts are rushing through my head, like a big pile of papers that fell off the sears tower and the contents of the papers are flashing pass my vision. This would be the witnessing of that scene. And then THAT sheet floated by. The sheet with the answer to my question from an earlier sheet. The answer came so quickly and it was, "to live life with no regrets". If you live life with no regrets, then you won't make a mistake. YOU make mistakes mistakes. Mistakes aren't mistakes until you make them into mistakes. Mistakes aren't bad things until you make them into bad things. Even if others accuse your actions/ideas/whatevers as mistakes, YOU can make them otherwise. Then the key to being perfect, is openmindedness. It's not the "Oh, whatever. No big deal" attitude, it's the, great-we-can-work-with-that attitude. It's the never giving up attitude. Being perfect, is being able to accept yourself and everything you do and loving them.
By the time I actually got home and re-charged, I realized that I never concluded. So do I do it? Should I go ahead and try to be perfect? Try to love myself and everything I do? Still unanswered. This thought didn't haunt me the entire Friday, nor did it haunt me a significant amount of time, but it was a nice ephihany moment I had while unconcious. I'm glad I remembered it. Oh yes, update on the new Samsung LED TV, we discovered a hole on the box, opened it and there was like a dent. No clue. called the sales people, not very helpful, not very satisfying answer. Oh yes, and I got my very first wii. This is crazy. my family has never gotten any sort of gaming system besides the computer. No nintendo, no playstation, NOTHING. This time, we randomly picked up the wii. $150 for the super mario 25th anniversary version at wal-mart. This is new, with the game bundle! Red nunchucks! awesome.. but I wish I could buy more red ones.. bleh.. I can't even afford another nunchuck/wii mote. ok sorry for random blurb.

Sometimes

Sometimes, I look back at old times. And I just can't believe that I am still 17.

Get Away

I feel a disturbance in my sanity, in my mind, and in my heart. Of all the things that went wrong today, that would have made the old me insane, one of those things persists to disturb my heart. I'm not a slut. But talking to him makes me feel like one. The low and deep mono-tone voice he utters, the glances he makes... it disturbs me. Did he just ask me out? Did I just agree? But it's my job to agree, so now I feel like a slut. I feel like I've betrayed myself to achieve a purpose. I've sold false emotions and sincerity to get people to like me and hopefully to stay longer.

I'm not trying to sell myself, but I feel like I just did. Every second of that conversation was disturbing to me. Why does he persist? Why am I obligated to respond, to contact him, to get him to talk to me? Has romance been officially ruined for me? I feel so disturbed, like I just experienced a moment no one ought to experience. Perhaps, the child walking in on the parents, or the parents walking in on the child. Both, disturbing. Motor neurons moving at the speed of light, 8.00x10^3 m2/s, from the cerebellum to the muscles of your hands screaming,"Cover your eyes! No, cover your ears! NO! COVER THEM BOTH!" I feel disturbed, like someone just stepped into my personal bubble and took a dump in it.

God, moments like this, I wish I was married already. I wish I had already found "Da One". Would he protect me from this awkwardness.. I'd expect that from a marital status. As everyone frolicked around the room, I considered making up a relationship. I guess it's not like I'm that great either. While I know that I'm not perfect, I feel no justification to be..open to just anyone. I guess I'm still a child, and I'm okay with that. I just need to get away

Dear God

Feels like no one believes in me.

Hurt

I feel really hurt. I feel my heart, heavy. It's so heavy. I think this is sadness. Sad to see that this isn't working; sad to see that nothing is working. The ice berg that floated our way. We have to break it. We have to break it before it leaves us. We have to break it and save their souls. God, I wish I knew what I was doing.

Today

Bastard child won my heart.

Telephone

Ugh. I want a new number. I hate phone calls. I don't remember what made me hate them so much. Maybe the awkwardness of the conversation lasting too long. Maybe the eeriness of an anonymous number. Maybe the caller.