yOur viLLaGe cALLed mE yeSterDay, thEy wAnt TheiR iDioT baCK..

dear jess,

its true. Eventually our sins catch up with us. sometimes physically, sometimes emotioanally, mentally sometimes all of them. sometimes on days when grace is far from sight, you go into a deep dark place and think that maybe crying will help you, but it doesnt come to you.

sometimes you feel like staying away from church because that is the one place you find you may get stoned instead of love. sometimes people tell you that forgiveness lifts the weight and yet the more times you ask for it the harder the weight seems to get off.

spend my whole teenage life trying to do the right thing and my whole adulthood realising that im only human and all my rights can be instantly changed with a single wrong.

there is a dark, cynical side that still feels she needs saving. there is an angry side that wishes people were more honest and then there is always, always the psychotic side that will always deny that any of this happened.

yours,

jess

ps. the title comes from a hilarious car sign and has been bought for a particular frens birthday. cant remember when he's birthday is, but how can you possibly pass up a sign like that? :)

*nO tiTLe*

Its not that I don’t want to tell her. Its that I don’t think she would be ready to listen to what i have to say.

dear jess

I hate modern day multitasking. As we speak I have papers on my floor, lap and table. Im typing a letter to you, messaging and doing my bible study homework. My mind is always on call.

Ive grown somewhat tired of my letters to you, and I must think you should too. Maybe there isn’t anything new left to tell you, and maybe it really doesn’t matter.

On days when you have to live with the fact that freedom is far from being able to just chuck all the papers in the air and run naked or lie down on the beach you planned and paid a holiday for that you knew would never happen.

At the end of the day, our stories are all the same, self pity with several successes, a dash of shock that someone in the family is different or annoying, someone’s getting married, somebody else is moving away, someone’s in love, and someone is out of love.

Yet, we still get shocked when we are told.

yours,
jess

*siLenCe*

dear jess,

there is no way to dignify death or hardship with a pen and our most poignont words. not from me anyway. i think, as i always have that words, mine anyway, justify little our deepest feelings. someone told me today his aunt has sixty days to live.

what left is there to say?

dumbfounded,
jess

*grOan* *siGh* yAwn*

dear underachiever,

The feeling of nothingness in a non changing world that neither challenges nor changes, neither hurts nor fulfills. I sit in the electric train that is filled with blazing advertisements, seats made of leather and men and women with Gucci and prada’s all getting off at the sky scrappers, offices and high powered places.

I’m not sure if the train is moving and I fail to realize that the yuppies have come, gone and come back again. I also fail to realize that they are sitting in a completely different train from me and that my train has yet to leave the station.

Shut my eyes to avoid the sun from waking me from slumber. Curse the over achievers. Scoff at life. Go back to sleep.

In my dream I have renamed myself to “unmotivated, over educated, under achiever”.

What’s worse than failing at I was passionate about is not having anything to be passionate about.

an awakening is yet to come. Woe is me if it doesn’t.

yours,

unmotivated, over educated, under achiever