![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Fuck.
Why insomnia? Natalia just broke up with her boyfriend... say's she doesn't feel anything right now, just sleeps a lot. What the hell??? Why to I feel like my stomach and heart are being dragged across a gravel road at 40 miles an hour. I actually feel a physical pain... it drains me.
What makes me so special?
Natalia and I had a long talk last night about Mormon and Non-Mormon relationships... She said I reminded her a lot of her grandfather, who converted right before he died. His wife was a very strong Mormon through-out her life.
Natalia's father, on the other hand, would burn church materials and demand that Natalia's mother choose either the Mormon church, or him. Okay... that's an asshole for you. Date, love and marry someone who respects you and is honest. Know who you are involved with...
I told her how frustrating it is to be something that people do not understand. I can't count how many times people have insisted that I must be doing something wrong, that God is easily accessible, "Ask and ye shall recieve..." I've asked, I've prayed, I've spoken to people, I've spent hours, days, months and years looking, searching and honestly questioning in an effort to feel the presence of God. I want that comfort that comes so easily to others. I don't know why I am me, but I think it unfair that I continue to be punished, not only by the entity that is supposed to be God, but also those who follow that God.
I am a man of love. I am a man of kindness... I believe in patience and of giving myself. I forgive easily, and do unto others as I would have done unto myself. I am a man of God, who knows no God. I am a good person and that is all I have to rest on... I feel that I am judged unfairly, and it is killing me.
Always on the outside looking in.
Sunday, when I was cracking... I was walking on a hard patch of crusty, inch-thick snow when the footsteps poem came to mind. I turned around to see if Jesus's sandle tracks were in the snow. Just boots. Does Jesus wear boots? Does he wear my boots?
Why insomnia? Natalia just broke up with her boyfriend... say's she doesn't feel anything right now, just sleeps a lot. What the hell??? Why to I feel like my stomach and heart are being dragged across a gravel road at 40 miles an hour. I actually feel a physical pain... it drains me.
What makes me so special?
Natalia and I had a long talk last night about Mormon and Non-Mormon relationships... She said I reminded her a lot of her grandfather, who converted right before he died. His wife was a very strong Mormon through-out her life.
Natalia's father, on the other hand, would burn church materials and demand that Natalia's mother choose either the Mormon church, or him. Okay... that's an asshole for you. Date, love and marry someone who respects you and is honest. Know who you are involved with...
I told her how frustrating it is to be something that people do not understand. I can't count how many times people have insisted that I must be doing something wrong, that God is easily accessible, "Ask and ye shall recieve..." I've asked, I've prayed, I've spoken to people, I've spent hours, days, months and years looking, searching and honestly questioning in an effort to feel the presence of God. I want that comfort that comes so easily to others. I don't know why I am me, but I think it unfair that I continue to be punished, not only by the entity that is supposed to be God, but also those who follow that God.
I am a man of love. I am a man of kindness... I believe in patience and of giving myself. I forgive easily, and do unto others as I would have done unto myself. I am a man of God, who knows no God. I am a good person and that is all I have to rest on... I feel that I am judged unfairly, and it is killing me.
Always on the outside looking in.
Sunday, when I was cracking... I was walking on a hard patch of crusty, inch-thick snow when the footsteps poem came to mind. I turned around to see if Jesus's sandle tracks were in the snow. Just boots. Does Jesus wear boots? Does he wear my boots?
