one hundred.

I've faced this empty page 100 times, and poured out my thoughts.

I feel like I should have something profound to say, but, I don't. I feel oddly like Joy Williams in her latest blog post...like the words have left me for a season.
This is scary, and unfortunate, but at the same time I cannot press myself to create.
I've never worked that way, and I wouldn't want to.

God brings the words as He sees fit, and I don't have much other to do with it, except write them down.

As a final addendum, I got a job.
I scoop ice cream and I love it.
I don't have to think too much, rather I just chat with friendly people and make them smile as I hand them a cone full of sugar.
It's nice.

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Scrape.

I'm trying not to let it get to me.
Trying to remind myself that life takes care of itself, and God takes care of life.

But really...after awhile it just gets disheartening.
I don't know why I worked so hard those four years of school for that shiny piece of paper in my diploma cover.
Why did I spend SO many nights not sleeping and pounding out papers, if not for a purpose and a dream?
Why did I cry and scream and plead with God to just get me through it all if I was going to end up sitting in coffee shops looking at jobs I won't get and thinking about what to cook for dinner?

I don't understand this and it frustrates me.
There has got to be more than this, and I don't get the waiting part.
Why?
No, really, why?

I missed out on the sunshine today so that I can sit and send out fifty resumes.
I didn't take my camera out because I needed to find somewhere to make money.
I gave up what I wanted for what I needed, and still came up empty handed.

This has got to end.

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collide

To seek the truth...to find the truth.

Strive, and push, and ponder, and deal with the things that are unearthed along the way.

Your life is a journey, and there is nothing at the end except for death (and what comes after).

What will you have left behind after you've gone?

Because you cannot take anything with you.

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