Some Words

"Wouldn't it be so wonderful if everything were meaningless?" - Pedro The Lion

There is a fine line between diary and thought. There is also a fine line between a post that talks about my personal life and a post that is personally a thought about my life. The latter is what I'm striving for here.

Since my grandiose entry about 1,000 posts, I have been really hesitant to write. I can write, but I don't mean like as a writer writes. I write well for, well me. I can convey feelings in an understandable and sometimes entertaining way. That's not to say that I don't have grammatical errors. I do. Nor is it to say that I misuse or overuse prepositional phrases (which ever applies, I'm not really sure). For me, to say I can write is not a lie or a boast. It's a fact. I can write well for Jeff Watkins. But maybe that's the problem.

Besides my whole self-imposed relativism there, I am trying to make a point. The point isn't about writing. Writing is symbolic for joy there. "What the hell?" Might you be inquiring? Joy. That's it. Joy.

How did I go from talking about my abilities as a writer to talking about joy? Easy. I just did it. That's the point. In writing, you can do it. I can be symbolic, metaphoric, or even literal. I can do all these things in writing and talk about whatever I want. So why isn't life this way.

Why can't I say and believe that I'm a Christian, and still yet, not find joy. Why can't I lie, cheat, lust, screw, cuss, drink, smoke, swear, hit, punch, kick, dismantle, retort, et cetera and not be joyful?

Isn't there an easier way?

To end a thought with an escapist-esque question like the previous one would be complete crap. I know there is an easier way. I just don't know how to get there.

I can be a Christian and do all those things. And the truth of it is, some of those things are not sins. The obvious ones are. But the others are not. More like, they are means to a possible end that is drenched in sin. But the in between, no it's not a sin. Again, I'm running off my point.

I have no joy now. I have temporal happiness, but that usually comes when I purchase something that I've wanted for a while or makeout with a girl. We all know joy and happiness are not the same. Joy is not an emotion, it's a state; an understood place. Emotive actions that only lead to a "feeling" inside is happiness. Happiness is an expression of a feeling just like being sad is. I don't want happiness. I want joy.

I want to love life and love love. I want these things. Why do I keep running into problems? Probably sin. Matter of fact. That's it.

Trust me, I could go out tonight, get "laid" or whatever socially acceptable euphuism is currently the trend, and feel pretty damn fine. But, what will I feel later on? When lust escapes and my manhood happiness goes away, where is the satisfaction? Where is the knowledge of understanding that my purpose for being here amounts to more than forty chapters in one book or a pop culture show that tells us who is cool and who is not?

This is not a rant about media. It's a rant about me. Take it for what it's worth. Probably nothing but rubbish, as is most of my life.

Lord, help me to not lead a life that is filled with happiness, but with joy.

"But everything is so meaningful. And most everything turns to shit. Rejoice" - Pedro The Lion