Why I am alive? I'm wearing pajama pants and a jumper and it's too cold inside, and when I go outside, the sun beams down and all this material that I am boils up. I've reached the end, I hope I have, because I can't do this anymore, because all I'm asking God is what I'm supposed to do, and he's trying to remind me, that I'm supposed to be, but I can't listen to him anymore, because you, the one I want to love me most, you say I'm too far gone, I'm too sad, that I need my hopelessness fixed, because it wrecks your happy, because you've only got one life and you doesn't want to waste it.
You wants to know why I do nothing with my life, and I try to explain that I have nothing to do, that there's nothing that I care about, that I'm not going to go out and try make a life, and force my way, and force my happy, because happy is just a feeling like sad and I've already spent years chasing it. Last night I was driving home, and fog was so thick around me, and the road I thought I knew suddenly seemed so different, and I drove it so much slower than usual, and I was so scared, and I wished that I wasn't alone. I wanted to stop, and cry, and I was trying to change the light so that I could see better, and at one point, I accidentally turned off my car lights and the world was blacker than I ever saw it, and I gasped, and I turned them on again and the fog was still there, and I just kept on, and then a bit later, it all disappeared, and the road that I knew was there again, in front of me. My fear went away with it, and I took a deep breath and I filled with relief, because I could see the way home, and it wasn't hidden by fog.
But that's where I am right now, metaphorically, and I'm full of sad, and I hurt a lot, my heart it just starts to tear.
Sometimes I find it really hard to believe that I'm supposed to be here, this place in the world, and then other times, something deep within me knows that I am, and I'm not afraid of sad, because for some reason, I don't care so much about a decently happy, balanced, full-of-variety life. I don't care about it at all. I'm too low down. I can't do anything else but wait for God. I can't try anymore! I know I seem ridiculous. I know. I don't know anything. There is nothing to me. I actually am hopeless. I'm not trying to impress God. I'm wishing to just die. I'm a coward. I'm weak. I'm afraid of things that no-one is afraid of. I'm sad about this, I'm sad that I'm sitting here at home alone, I'm sad that I'm not doing anything with my life, I'm sad that I'm wasting it. I really am. I wish I was doing the things that mattered to me, like walking a neighbourhood and befriending the lost, and inviting them to come and see Jesus,
but you see the thing is, I am lost, and I wish someone would invite me to come with them and see Jesus. I couldn't invite someone, I have no idea where he is. I have no idea. I am so lost. I am so... wrecked. I am so stuck. I wish I didn't have to take any more breaths. Everything in my life is half-hearted and incomplete, I'll stop sticking up for myself. Not all those who are lost, wander. Some of us stay. I don't want anything but God. I have no right to ask for him. I want you God. God.
I don't want advice for a better life.
I don't want to become complete and healthy with a job and prosperity. I don't know, maybe I'm completely alone in this. But when I think about poverty, I want people to have a home, I don't want them to be sold for sex, I want them to have families that love each other. But the answer to their lives and to our lives isn't to eradicate poverty, isn't to improve our own prosperity, the answer isn't to feel happy about who we are and we're headed, it's not to feel sure about a ten year plan, a life-long plan, it's not to feel foolish about a hopeless present, a hopeless life. I'm not eager for this sadness to lift so that I can feel okay again. I don't want to just feel okay again.
I refuse to meander along. I refuse to figure it out eventually. I will waste my life. I will waste it. I am wasting it. You know I am, you wish I wasn't, because you care about me. You really do. You want the best for me, you want me to happy! And you are so genuine, I know you are.
But hear me, please, hear me. I need God. I need him so, so much. I really do. And I know I'm going about this all wrong, but please believe me when I tell you that this is the only place I can be, I'm stuck. It would be easier to be content with anything.
I'll get to the end and I'll never have known him, and I'll have missed him.
I'm just waiting for him to find me. I'm selfish and thoughtless and I'm just desperate, for your sake, I hope he finds me soon.