random anxieties of existence

i have to say, sometimes swearing is so ridiculous it's downright humorous. one is particularly aware of this as a Christian. countless times people have apologized to me for swearing in my presence, as though i'm so holy that i can't be in the presence of such talk or i'll melt. at the same time, this is usually a relief, because it's difficult to communicate when every other word contributes nothing to the conversation except to make me well aware that the person i'm talking to has a vocabulary less than that of a three-year-old. then there's the other side of the coin - people who swear around me purposefully because i'm a Christian. somehow, one of the guys on my highschool bus in Northern Ontario learned that i had never used profanity, and promptly felt called to dedicate his life to causing me to curse. "just once, come on," he'd say. i could do nothing but smile. there was absolutely no reason that i could think of why i would want ...

i'm lying in bed listening to music through headphones. pretty much every cd of the approximately two hundred i own, except for coldplay and collective soul, is of a 'Christian band' (were there such a thing), because I'm a good Christian. i'll admit, just now i skipped 'be thou my vision' in my playlist in order to hear illegally downloaded afi, whose poetically depressing lyrics are smoothly integrated into complex guitar compositions. but i deleted the one song that has the f-word (the only profanity, as far as i know), probably because i'm a good Christian. today i was wearing my favourite black zip-up hoodie. it is good, except the bottom-front part kind of bunches up and makes me look like i have a beer belly, even though i have never had a sip of beer (because i'm a good Christian?). also, the sleeves are a little short. were my hands to suddenly become legs, my hoodie would be high-water pants. a truly Good sweater wouldn't be like this. ...

"Behold, I teach you the overman [Übermensch]. The overman is the meaning of the earth. Let your will say: the overman shall be the meaning of the earth! I beseech you, my brothers, remain faithful to the earth, and do not believe those who speak to you of otherworldly hopes! Poison-mixers are they, whether they know it or not. Despisers of life are they, decaying and poisoned themselves, of whom the earth is weary: so let them go." -Friedrich Nietzsche in Thus Spoke Zarathustra I'd like to think that if I were an atheist (assuming such a position were possible), I would live completely free of all moral restraints. Having no absolute Truth to guide me, I would be the most conniving, power-hungry villain to walk the planet. I'd be so good at being bad, in fact, that no one would know that I really didn't give a darn-tootin' diddley what they thought of my actions. I would be Superkeith, and there would be no stopping me. Given...

to faithful be, perhaps to see God’s perfect plan - my destiny within this frail, distorted jar of clumpy clay, a treasure far beyond the weakness that I know, beyond the darkness far below into the blinding light I go, to seek a king of grace to show my heart’s desire beyond the shade, a once-lost love, back from the grave this is my cry, my call, my dream: to sing, to bring, praise offering; a matchless prize, forgotten jewel; I long to strive to thrive - a fool! caught in his trap of boundless grace a sinner saved, by sight of face to haste this faith, my hope embrace an endless peace, a life to taste, richer than wine, to dine mine thine, thy kindly find mine mind and shine sweet light, to thank thy might, not quite my height to fight this plight not trite lost lest love lift low life long-lain, not sight-sought sweetness do I claim but by thy wind my wing-tips fly, found freely flowing fountains I within thy streams, beneath thy grace, a fearfully suspended ...

the clouds are moving quickly today. the sky is restless, as though in trembling anticipation of some great event. i, along with the darting wind and quivering trees, am not sure whether this change is for the better or worse. today is a great battle of Spring and Autumn, with Winter still clinging to a remnant of earth with her slowly-loosening grip. Spring is new on the scene, calling for Summer to break through the darkened sky in all her glory and melt the last icy fragments of winter. Autumn refuses to concede that her work has come to naught, and her leaves flurry furiously in the air, rustling amongst themselves, having been disturbed from a deep sleep as their thick blanket has dissolved, baring them to the still-chilled breath of Spring. it is through this breath she strives to inspire life in the frigid ground, shaking mother earth from her slumber. the birds are the first to foresee the approaching reign of Summer, heralding their approval with sweet chirps and heightened ...