I'm Tired of Trying to Think of a Title that Sounds Good.

Driving down the interstate to Austin or La Quinta beach, windows down, blaring Brad Paisley, scorching sun on my skin, wind in my face, nothing in front of me but the flat Texas road and clear blue skies.



Standing outside of Christina's dad's shop on the main street, 100 degrees, feet dirty, refreshed with the freshly squeezed mango juice, trying to take in everything all at once -- the biting yet familiar garbage scent, the men sitting outside on lawn chairs, eyes squinted, as relaxed and content as I'll ever be, the truckloads filled with garbage, the women sorting the organics from the rubber, the wide-eyed children yelling "What's your name?" in broken English, the smell from the bakery next door, and again, the garbage scent filling in all the white spaces inbetween.



Goosebumps forming as our naked bodies entered into the cold midnight water, the darkness covering our slight embarassment but the moonlight providing enough light to show our adrenaline rushing, our laughter ringing into the stillness, never feeling so free, knowing that this moment would be one that bonded us in a way that would last beyond leaving for college and beyond losing touch, beyond us going our separate ways.







Memories like these are the only things that are keeping me sane here. Or keeping me from going completely numb, or completely swallowed by this school. By the disappointments of lost friendships, or potential communities that care about each other more than they care about themselves or about their future career. There comes a point where efforts and energy are exhausted and proven futile when there is no response returned or when no fruit bears.



I don't know how God did it. How he put up with the Israelites, how he gave them second, third, hundredth chances. How many failures and disappointments he experienced, yet still unconditionally loved.



Amy put it well. I feel like a particle of dust, just floating through the air, and the only thing I'm clinging on to is. Well, I'd like to say God. But both He and I would know that's a lie. One of many that I tell myself.



I'm so exhausted. From memories, the ones that keep me going yet at the same time keep me hanging onto my past, keep me comparing it to things that are meant to be different. From people, the ones who I try to change or invest in or care or love, but it only brings me back to where I started. From thinking. From being disappointed. From placing such high expectations on people or things that I can't even expect out of myself. From knowing that the same God who calmed the seas and the provided manna to the Israelites is the same God living inside me, yet constantly not rejoicing or finding contentment in Him. From the routine here. From this school, how people are so driven and so consumed with themselves and their own lives that they don't bother or aren't willing to sacrifice for others, for things more important. And from seeing myself become more and more jaded, more sucked into this environment, more forgetting what I told myself I wouldn't become or how I wouldn't let disappointments and people here change the core of who I am. From God rooting out the worst in me, from Him continually revealing my selfishness, my emptiness, my masks, my sand castles that spend their time collapsing. From trying to put my thoughts into words. From doing things out of obligation. From trying so hard in one-sided friendships, telling myself that they'll last, or that they actually care back. From praying in Alice Millar or by the rocks, knowing in my head that He hears me, but not feeling it in my heart. From trying to think up of more things that are making me exhausted to add to this list.



I want to care, I want to cry, I want to scream. I just want to feel something. I want to feel free to be myself. I want to wear my crocs, blare and sing along to my country music without feeling patronized. I want friends that aren't afraid to have fun or sacrifice certain things or make an effort or take a risk of being vulnerable and honest. I want to be completely and totally consumed by my Savior, my God. I want to go hiking and camping. I want to be comfortable. I want to be able to be around my class without feeling awkward. I want to have guy friendships that don't end up awkward or broken. I want things to last beyond a quarter or beyond distance. I want to feel like I'm a part of something, like God placed me here for a reason. I want to tell people how much I love a certain thing about them without feeling awkward. I want to talk about things on my mind without being shot down. I want to be selfish, is that so selfish?