lexi's screwtape letters

2009-12-02T23:40:00.003-06:00

I want to be next to you.
I want to be first in line.
I want to steal you away.

God, I'm selfish.

2007-06-01T23:32:00.000-05:00

kids...don't ever let anyone tell you life gets better after graduation. it just gets different. not worse, not better....just another variety of strange.

i'm going back to c-ville in a week.
and i've never felt as releaved to say that as i am when i say it now.

jaime says i'm a shmuck. i say, he stole that word from me and he never would have thought to use it except for the fact that he embodies it.

i love that boy.

things that prove my shmuckiness?

a. i didnt go to africa.
b. or mexico.
c. or europe.
d. i am in fact, a townie.

and what atones for jaime's own love of his PARENT'S home?

a. a trip to europe, that only happened because he over does everything...so when he gets pissed at his girlfriend and needs to pout...he country hops.

i think that if i stayed in kansas city and pined for him all summer...i would actually be a shmuck.

i cannot wait to get home.
the little couch misses me.
as does the walk in closet and the blue ball, but that's beside the point.

i miss first baptist...and all of the disfunction therein.
i miss worship with adam and steve.
i miss ashley...i miss EVERYTHING about ashley. our late night rants, our sporadic obsessions with eachother that result in spending four or five consecutive days of hanging out, sleeping, hanging out, and sleeping...followed by two weeks of fights and bitchiness because we're sick of eachother. i miss getting ready for church at her house, and fighting over the mirror. i miss sharing a beanbag chair at youthgroup, and paintball masks at tim's house. i miss breakfast with jerry pace. i think i even miss the gap in ashley's teeth. i. miss. ashley.

i cannot WAIT for the ots reunion...and i am speaking about the worship band...not the act.
we are gonna rock first baptist so hard, Liberty might just do the fox trot. and again...i am speaking about the WORSHIP BAND. sickos. ha...FOX trot...i didn't even mean to do that. shut up tim, we all know you wanna bone liberty.

i cannot WAIT for a true girls' night that includes britt, ash, 'lis, abbo, steph, and kris.

i cannot WAIT for a true old fashioned sunday...one that includes poker, halo, fantasy baseball, worship practice, naps in the scrunched pace basement, and movies that noone will actually watch.

i cannot WAIT to drink a cup of sacred grounds antigua.

i cannot WAIT to not have to think about it anymore.

i cannot WAIT to go home.

dirty, suffocating, small minded...collinsville.
home.

2007-01-26T11:25:00.000-06:00

hey, koshitimo!

i'm glad we're running from the same reality.

"now...i know you're dead, sea scrolls...but try to look alive here! i need some ambiance."

i guess i'm pretty glad we're friends, too.
oh...and this wannabe blackberry is all right, if you're into that sort of thing.

2007-01-20T13:06:00.000-06:00

i would appreciate it if someone would spend time me with no other intentions than spending time with me.

if you should catch that fancy, give me a call.

2007-01-18T22:17:00.000-06:00

there will always be a melba and james to my lorelle.

2007-01-14T21:11:00.000-06:00

im stranded here, somewhere between empty and exploding
praying for familiarity
within this unnaccustomed surrounding.

empty, empty i feel so empty
all is useless, all is vain
the blisters in my voice are clamoring for a friend

exploding, exploding my center is exploding
all is lost, and all is vain
i think i'll say that line again

i'm all lost, i'm all vain
i'm all useless, i'm all vain

the blisters in my voice, they clamor for a friend.

they tell me i'm transparent...so where is it they go?
have my smiling lies and chipper phone calls
led to a place noone can know?

the wrinkles on my forehead, the nubs i call my hands...
the shaking foot, the twisting hair
the violent tug of my brow

desperation, desperation!
desperation speaks so loud.

can't you hear the ghostly, taunting me unglued?
the demons, these devils, the impish, beastly fools!
i've beat them, i've beat them, i beat them everyday

i've beat them, i've beat them
i know the games they play!

i can't beat them, i can't beat them
not tonight, anyway.

they're swarming me, they're gagging me
they're taunts are getting louder
demons screaming, monsters clawing
bidding me, begging me
to scream a little louder

my soul is divorcing, my brain is splintering...

all is useless, all is vain!

louder, they taunt and say it all again ...

all is useless, all is vain
all is empty, tell us...
where's your friend?

i am useless, i am empty, tell me!
where's a friend?

words are pouring, images are scarring
fear is conquring me

screams are piercing, faith is depleating...
confusion stole a shattering lead.

release is lost, release is lost
in the darkness, it took flight.

beauty is gone, beauty is gone
fear conqured me tonight.

2007-01-14T00:50:00.000-06:00

i've been staring at the shadows cast on my walls (via the picture window and blaring street light,) and listening to a once comforting- now maddening-buzz (via my fan) for long enough tonight, that i believe i've reveled upon something worth sorting out.

i think we're starved for intimacy. what i mean is...i guess...we're starved for connection. or relativity to eachother's souls, rather than relativity to eachother's fave five.

it's as if in an attempt to better ourselves, we (i.e. :homosepians) have bettered our surroundings...and lost ourselves within it.

we've spent primarily the past century screaming for connectivity. first the mail service, then the telegraph, followed by telephone, radio, television, cell phones, internet, e-mail, myspace, gps tracking systems, ("i know where you at!") satellites...the list is a million miles long.

and through all of our desperate screams for relationship...we've somehow drifted further east and west of eachother.
as we've unknowingly ran in the opposite direction of our destination, (eachother) we've crafted a million ways to grout out our endless supply of cracks.

money.
sex.
art.
manipulative relationships.

it's heartbreaking to go to bed hoping to renew yourself, and instead exhaust the little energy saved from your hum-drum day full of money, sex, art, and manipulative relationships thinking about...money, sex, art, and manipulative relationships.

where we (you know-homosepians) used to expend our time and energy on things such as family, home, loyalty, and survival we've traded that fervencey for money, cell phones, manipulative relationships, and fave five calling circles.

we used to fill (what i'm beginning to believe is) our ever-present voids with things that we believed were better than us...religion, music, worship. things that made us stronger, better, and heartier internally.
we felt that wasn't working, so we instead began to focus on the external. and yet our voids are as empty as ever.

can the void ever be filled? or is it that humans cannot remain human without the need of something intangable?

tonight, there is a void.
i've tried to fill it with money, sex, art, and manipulative relationships. what i've gained is a 46 hour work week, whiny half-written novels, confusion about the only thing that ever made sense, and a bruise on my shin that is nowhere near as grusome as the one on my heart.

i once focused my energy on things that i believed made me better...religion, music, art. i found that wasn't working.

i'm starved for intimacy.
i'm starved for connection.

i crave them.

the only thing that lulls me to rest is the thought that intimacy and connection are not non-exsistant. the handful of times i touched the hem of that intimate and soul-replenishing garment...were fully exsistant.
and something to strive towards.

good night.

at this point, i really wish i had weed to blame for my incompetence.

2007-01-13T11:30:00.000-06:00

where the hell am i going in such a hurry?
i am burnt out.
and that is in no manner a refrence to the amount of drugs i've never used.
i'm just burnt out on evangelical...ish...ness.
i need relationship...ish...ness.

and awe.
and wonder.
and community.
and my best friend.
and a one way ticket to upper middle class.
oh...and some scholarships would be nice.
and someone to challenge me. that hasn't happened in a while.
damn...i must really be screwing this whole sanctification process up...i've pretty much ceased to sanctify.
i'm stuck somewhere between...bored and...and...defiant. and foolish. did i mention bored? the trinity of fecklessness.

feck·less /ˈfɛklɪs/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[fek-lis] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–adjective
1.
ineffective; incompetent; futile: feckless attempts to repair the plumbing.
2.
having no sense of responsibility; indifferent; lazy.

this is OBVIOUSLY my issue.
i wish something would bowl me over here pretty quickly, otherwise i think my zeal may tanker off the coast of africa ( that is, the coast i'll probably never see).
am i the only person who happens to feel a little numb to this whole christianity thing?
i was just wondering.

i am burnt out.
and sooooo stereotypical.

bloods and the crypts? psssshhhh. they have nothing on the police in terms of the fear that red and blue can produce in the human psyche.

2007-01-13T00:54:00.000-06:00

oh.
my.
lord.

i got pulled over.

and john and curtis were naked in the backseat.

you want details?

you have to call me.

ettiquite, coffee, and eye balls.

2007-01-11T23:12:00.000-06:00

there are things rushing through my head.
things i'm not allowed to say.

i'm not allowed to say these things for a number of sensible, practical, and logical reasons.

when it boils down to it...insomnia is lethal for an over-analyzer such as myself.

tonight there is the perfect mix of lonliness, caffeine, illogical thought, over analyzation, awe, honesty, and...insomniac coursing through my veins, that many of the things i'm not allowed to say because of practicallity, sensability...and all the other bilities...are simply forcing their way onto my computer screen.

for example:

if i'm being sensible, i should be sleeping soundly because i do have to get up for work around 6 am.

but in my unsensible manner...i'm thinking about how sometimes, when you look straight into my eyes i feel like i just might die because of the onslaught of emotion you thrust upon me. shameful lust, and pure love, and respect, and begrudging need. your blue locks inside of my brown and i feel all of that, at once. it's a bit overwhelming.

the reason i shouldn't say that is because for a woman to admit that a man has that kind of power over her is somehow so...needy. and pathetic. but as i mentioned before..i'm beyond the things i shouldn't say.

i'm also thinking about what a heaven-send sleeping next to another person is.
for nineteen years...i've slept primarily alone.

meaning, without another person.
when the majority of your life is spent resting in the comfort of...box springs and poly-cotton blend...
resting in the comfort of another human's steady breathing is like finally releasing your grip from the chin-up bar in junior high...you just sort of fall gratefully into release.

i'm thinking that if i have to fall asleep to the incessant, buzzing cocoon of my fan one more night...i just might put a pillow over my face and tell the world to fuck off.

the problem with the aforementioned thought?
noone should be so lonely that simply the sound of another human's breathing is enough to keep her sane. and really, it's so unbecoming of a lady to say fuck.