It's hard to tell.......what sucks and what doesn't.
sadClown2
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Name: Kris
Location: Dublin, Ireland
Birthday: 5/9/1990
Gender: Male


Interests: Music of almost any genre, anything drama, William Shakespeare, Jesus Christ: (the order I put these in does not, in any way denote their significance,) people, and how there always seems to be sombody somewhere who is better than me in some respect or other.
Expertise: UM, Yeah....... I'll let you guys know if anything develops..... I would say sleeping, or something, but I actually really suck at that too.
Occupation: Unemployed/Between Jobs
Industry: Entertainment


Message: message meEmail: email me
AIM: none, so don't ask


Member Since: 2/9/2006

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Wednesday, March 12, 2008


















                                        God, did I do something wrong?



                                                                  If so, please let me know.





                                Because if I didn't, then I think I have the patience to wrestle this thing to the bitter end.  I just need to know where to be, and what to do.



                                                                                  I'm tired of figuring it out on my own.

                                                                                                         ........I just get it wrong, anyway.









                                              According to everyone in my life, I'm doing everything wrong, right now.  I can't touch anything, but it withers and dies.  Hell, I'm withering and dying.  And now more than ever, people are leaning on me.  People need me, or think they need me, and I'm failing them too.  My entire life is criticizing me.  It laughs my puny efforts to scorn.  And it's strangely comforting to know that it really is all pathetic.  I could die right now, and it wouldn't matter.  I know you're looking down, and waiting until I'm far gone enough to listen to you.  It must be pretty amusing, from your point of view, mustn't it?





                                     Maybe it really is all my fault.  Maybe I'm subconsciously making habits that deprive me of sleep, so that when I break down, I have an excuse to fail.  Maybe I'm still just insulating myself from failure.  Maybe I'm still so damn insecure that I can't possibly imagine an effort that isn't heroic, or isn't made in the face of superhuman adversity.  Maybe I really am just a lie.





                                 I don't know.


                                               Right now, I know that I want to make an honest effort.  And that this is hard.





                                       Still, they're pissed, they're disappointed, they're annoyed, they're kept waiting, they're intruded upon, and irked by my existence.  They're all screaming in my face.  And they all think they're entitled to.  Maybe they are.










                                                    But none of it matters if you're ok with me.  If I've done nothing wrong in your eyes, then I can block them all out.  If they don't agree with you, then they're just wrong, and I can be patient with them.










                            So I just need to hear you.  Was it something I did?


                                        Or is all of the condemnation just sound and fury, signifying nothing?









                                             "And yet the stronger here was still,

                                               Small; far off shone its source."






                      I'll wait for your still, small voice.  Because it's the only one that cuts through all this madness.















                                                        Thanks for everything, Lord.




























Sunday, February 17, 2008

Someone else's words.



             " The love of her life is drifting away
They’re losing the fight for another day
The life that she’s known is falling apart
A fatherless home, a child’s broken heart

You’re holding her hand, you’re straining for words
You're trying to make sense of it all
She’s desperate for hope, darkness clouding her view
She’s looking to you

Just love her like Jesus, carry her to Him
His yoke is easy, His burden is light
You don’t need the answers to all of life’s questions
Just know that He loves her and stay by her side
Love her like Jesus
Love her like Jesus"


                                                                                                          ~Casting Crowns







                  So that's not precise, but basically what I'm trying to do.  They're someone else's words.



                        ......I don't have time for my own, right now.



                                             ........and those have been getting me into trouble anyway.









          I'm sure everything will pan out fine.  Maybe I won't see it happen, and I'll go through the rest of my life with that empty spot of wondering.  Then I'll just have to trust Him to take care of it.  He probably wants me to be better at that.  Hm.













                                                                         Patience, please.








Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Ramblings on a forgotten weblog...




          I must say, it's been quite some time since anything significantly xanga-ish has come out on here.


         You move on, life changes, and everybody makes new habits.


            Right now, I'm sitting at home.  I took the first two of my midterms today, and I'm slightly cold.  As a result, whatever this post ends up being just may sound a little curt.




                                                  Where am I right now?


                                                                   ................it's a little hard to tell.

                                        I could say that I'm learning to be lonely........I've been singing that song alot......but I think I'm learning not to be lonely.  Because I'm not alone.  So loneliness is irrational.  It's funny, but I'm really just starting to learn this.  I've always known it in my head, like the correct answer to a question.  But I've never really known it for real.  Looking back, I've grown up pretty alone.  When I joined boy scouts, I had to do everything on my own.  I just figured that was the way it was supposed to be, and so I remained secluded.  As with most things, there was an upside and a downside to this.  I learned to solve things for myself.  I figured no one really cared about me enough, anyway, so I'd better just suck it up and deal.  I had to work myself to death if I wanted to be worth anything.  So I worked.  But it left me wanting.  I haven't striven for anything because I was motivated, or excited about some possibility.  I've tried to be absolutely perfect in everything because maybe if I got there, people would look at me and say wow.

                                 It's ironic..................that's already happened.  My guilty pleasure in theatre has been the compliments I'm able to accrue.  Annie Get Your Gun should have been the end-all of my insecurity.  I came out of nowhere.  I even kind of surprised myself.  The night before auditions, dreading making a fool out of myself, I stood in my backyard and belted out that opener until I discovered a way to make it sound like I was singing well.  Of course, everyone was impressed.  It sounded like singing to them, too.  I should have felt great.  Having produced something all of myself and received the shower of compliments after the show that I did, I should have finally felt like I was worth something.  But I knew something that you all didn't.  I was a fake.  I wasn't what you were seeing.  I knew that if you all knew the truth about me, you'd drop me like a dead rat.  Sometimes, it felt like it was only a matter of time.  It's been the same with every character or accomplishment.  The multitudes of compliments, I felt, were completely undeserved.  I always found some trick at the last minute to improve my performance, whether that performance was on stage, or on a test.  (As a disclaimer, I never cheated on tests.  I just played mental games with myself, winging it, and flying the A's by the seat of my pants.)  I wanted to believe how great everyone said I was, but I knew that they couldn't possibly mean it.

                                .........I have often even gone so far as to wonder if I am actually a pathetic retard, in the face of whom all the world smiles, and pretends to see worth.  All this inspired by pity.  They know that I couldn't possibly amount to anything, so they create for me a safe little happy world, in which to dream away my days.

                                         That's dark, I know, but the mind is.

                      The bottom line is, I couldn't believe them.  I wanted to feel accepted, but I just wouldn't risk feeling sure.  One of the worst sins I committed, arising from my selfishness, was to treat a young girl's heart as a vending machine.  I plugged in effort, hoping to receive some kind of warmth in return.  Continually refining my formula, I strove to be the perfect boyfriend, attempting thereby to pry those arms wide enough to cram myself in.  I refused to believe that they were already graciously spread as wide as they could have been.  The same went for the arms of whom I will refer to as the general public.  I've been far more fortunate than most in my family, friends, and acquaintances.  But not one, and not all of them combined could ever love me as much as I need.  This I refused to accept, however, for far too long, and to my shame.

                                      The more I think about how I actually treated her, the more I'm sorry.

                     .......she once said that if it wasn't her, it would have been someone else.  She was right.








            I suppose this brings me to Sunday.  I got prayer, and my Father held me.  It's as simple as that, and it's all going away now.  All it takes is the simple, honest, sincere realization that He loves me the way that He does, and all of the years of fear, striving, crying, worrying, pondering and hiding are melting away.  He loves me.  May the rest of Creation forgive my slowness to learn, because I know He already has.  Of course it'll take some time to sink in, and show in the way I live.  Real things always do.

                                   So help me God, that's not an excuse.

                        So everyone moves forward, life changes, and we all make our new habits.

                                                                                  Nothing new under the sun.































                                                 So..............where am I?














                         I am right............................................here.









                                                                *insert Kristopher Iain Patrick Reilly*
















































           ............congrats to anyone who finished reading this, and still cared / could focus by the end.



Sunday, December 30, 2007

What do you think?



O'er grassy swell and blowing scape, walked Stranger known to One.
     He traversed plain 'midst sighing light,
     Which stirred and sought, and knew.

Two parts there were, of light that was, one ancient, also fresh,
     Continually new, yet circling 'round,
     E'er all which light can be.

This light, indeed, was richer, more original than time.
     The second part of light that was,
     Seemed weak, a shadow fleet.

An image was the second light, in nature, of the first.
     And yet the stronger here was still,
     Small; far off shone its source.

Still, ever rolled the misty world beneath that Stranger's step.
     Much more, each stride, did yearn his soul,
     For home, love, to be whole.

With search he knew: "My heart doth leap, and cleave to this good light."
     "Attain, I must, or doom I must,
     Myself to roam alone."

He strove and fell, and cursed himself, a stranger dust to lie.
     Then came the Source, and caught him up,
     The Stranger to enfold.






Wednesday, November 28, 2007

A Good Poem.




Batter my heart, three-personed God; for You

As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;

That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend

Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

I, like an usurped town, to another due,

Labor to admit You, but O, to no end;

Reason, Your viceroy in me, me should defend,

But is captíved, and proves weak or untrue.

Yet dearly I love You, and would be lovéd fain,

But am betrothed unto Your enemy.

Divorce me, untie or break that knot again;

Take me to You, imprison me, for I,

Except You enthrall me, never shall be free,

Nor ever chaste, except You ravish me.




                                                                                                                  ~John Donne








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