For those of us who are christian, I think the biggest challenge sometimes isn’t in doing anything or staying particularly good. Self-importance makes us believe at some point or other that we are fully capable of being a good christian on our own, or that we should be. We keep on forgetting just Who it is that we are talking about, and that we live in the shadow of someone far bigger than we are. What are you going to do with yourself? You don’t know. Where are you going? You don’t know. Who are you going to be? You’ve got an idea maybe, but you don’t know. And that’s ok. It takes a great deal of courage but every christian is called to be a little fundamentally irresponsible about themselves.
Every now and then it is important to stop trying for awhile and just go ‘Dear God: rock my world. amen.’
Kimberley Swann, 16, of Clacton, had been working at Ivell Marketing & Logistics, in Clacton, for three weeks before being fired on Monday.
Sounds like a temp-level job. That’s pretty harsh. It’s pretty scary realising that social networking is an area so completely new and un-marked that, really, most adults have no idea about the kinds of etiquette and boundaries that characterise it.
Your parents probably never had to manage an online persona before, and definitely not a comprehensive one. There’s no literature about it with any kind of real perspective about what this is in a social context, how much it will affect the rest of your life. Uncharted waters, close to no frames of reference to anything that you are doing. I can’t think of any parallels, at least.
Wonder where all this will end up in twenty years or so *makes vague gestures taking in everything*
i realise if i keep this up this is turning into a music-based blog, weird. who’da thought there was so much music in the world, and I haven’t even scratched the past yet.
And i used to think 98 played some good tunes sometimes.
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It starts with bloodshed, always bloodshed, always the same
running from something larger than yourself story,
shoving money into the jaws of a suitcase, cutting your hair
with a steak knife at a rest stop,
and you're off, you're on the run, a fugitive driving away from
something shameful and half-remembered.
They're hurling their bodies down the freeway
to the smell of gasoline,
which is the sound of a voice saying I told you so.
Yes you did, dear.
Every story has its chapter in the desert, the long slide from kingdom
to kingdom through the wilderness,
where you learn things, where you're left to your own devices.
From Driving, Not Washing, Richard Siken, Crush, Yale University Press 2005
Like the genius I am I’ve gone and gotten the mirror filter over my nikon camera sensor smudged quite badly. This is because I assumed ‘lens cleaner’ meant ‘For All Things that are kind of Lens-Like’. Small bits of dust become a huge smudge and I go and look it up because I’m baffled. Looks like I’m lucky not to have damaged the sensor proper (i hope it’s not damaged). I need to go down to the shop tomorrow to get someone to look at it. Idiot.
I get really annoyed at myself when I screw up like this.
Richard siken’s poems make you want to run about, attack a homeless man, emigrate, cry, fall in love, fall out of love, possibly all of the above at once.
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