We want tattoos and purple hair and tight pants because we want to be rock stars. We want to embezzle that life, and in our minds, first, we must embody that image. We want to be negligent children forever. A rock star. We want to not have to look at the chaos, and when we do see and our hearts fill up, we want an excuse for the mistakes that may ensue. In this way, we are pre-redeemed and we can still take all of the credit for the good things that come out of our actions. Rock stars are respected for misbehaving and for doing good things. Rock stars are children. The grown up child has tattoos and purple hair. We want to be seen, but only under the cloak of being in character, our rock star.

I wonder how hard it would be to live in life, not ever in character. Are those the unhappy people? I can think of repairmen. But also Pastor Jeremy. So, the most happy and the least happy? The most hardworking? 

It’s laziness that takes on a new character. That and fear.

When am I not in character.

I love that about Jeremiah. It’s really obvious when he’s in character. And that’s not truly how he operates in life.

What if we rode away from the reception on a motorcycle and didn’t stop until we got to wherever we were going. Or just stopped at diners and to get gas. Or something like that. The American dream.

No, that’s impractical. We wouldn’t be wearing helmets, jackets, and boots. I guess we could just put all of that on over our wedding clothes. Or we could ride from the reception on the motorcycle to the T Bird with our luggage in it at our house. That would be practical. And I’d still get the motorcycle. And it would make sense, if we wanted to fly somewhere, to ride to the airport and I’d still have my cool get away. Creativity.

Youth. Oh, the times.

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I’d be comfortable if You came down now.

I don’t want to face this

although I deserve it.

Jesus, come down

right now.

Messiah, I’m terrified

I know I’ve been wrong

My stomach is sick with the weight of my eyes.

God, send Your Son.

Right now.

if I’m dead in the morning,

know that I begged for it.

God, save your kid.

I’m lonely for my best friend.

I’m lonely for the contact.

I will not lose this.

I reject it.

Send the righteous.

End it all now.

Alexis, I’m not going to just give him to you. You have to earn him.

Can you breathe. Can you breathe. Can you breathe. Can you breathe. Can you breathe.

Can you breathe. I can’t.

Well. I guess if it didn’t work for a woman that physically flawless then there’s hope for the rest of us. Unfortunate and sad.

We’re a generation of women abandoned by men. I’m wondering if finding another man is really the answer we’re looking for.