i look at pictures of a girl i was in love with while simultaneously resisting the affections of another. the former i loved, the latter i do not. why? 

there are times when i hold the scepter. with the angle of my hand i discern the sheep from the goats. you will cry or you will laugh. i have probably made a few cry. 

then i beg on my knees at the mercy of another for the same affection i refuse to extend. 

i cant make you love me. you cant make me love you. 

i need to do some things. 

lunch today with susan. realized that i dont have an answer to give, starting spewing verbal diarrhea. put forth an attempt for her to acknowledge the dysfunctional nature in which i talk in relation to matters of faith, but i did not witness any understanding in her face. thus i was in this way denied, not in the conscious sense of her denying me an attempt to be understood, but denied in the sense of confidence  in my ability to accurately articulate the validity of my beliefs. felt completely disarmed. but the redemptive notion that one ususally feels during such experiences was absent, as the disarmament was only occurring in my half of the conversation, and i perpetuated the whole thing, gave away my entire identity to a stranger who i had almost no context for, all couched within my emotionally involved tendency to beat myself up over this inability to communicate that stems from an insecurity to provide an adequate answer to support the legitimacy of my socially awkward self-acknowledgement of Christian. 

i was stressed out about nothing. what was i stressed out about?

were you hipster too?

It's her lips that carry the weight; the exhausting burden of forcing all her actions to fit within the social parameters of a superfluous cultural fad while tragically never becoming aware of the fact. They want to be the best, and that's understandable. Someone has to try to. And it is, after all, me that reaps the benefits of their attempts at creating this empire of dirt. I like to find the best coffee, and i like to know how to make it too, but i'd prefer not to contribute to the cultural stigma of pretentiousness that always seems to come from the attempt to "be the best" within a capitalistic system fueled by the almost undeniable tendency of humans to compete with each other. 

They don't realize the advantages of being shitty. They have no notion of praying for affliction, or at least embracing its humility when it comes to them circumstantially. They still get disappointed when they lose. It's not an opportunity for them, it's the loss of one. And they don't yet recognize that this particular fad to which they subscribe is like a drop in the bucket, an effect of a previous cause. Soon, within several years, it will become the cause for an equally rebellious effect. Someone will say, "how tiresome it is to make sure everything you eat is organic and free trade." Yea. Damn. We're tired of this. 

But don't mention this subscription stuff to them- for they will arduously deny subscription to any set of limiters. "The first rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk about Fight Club." You'd think if it was really that great of a movement, more people would be willing to go down with the ship. 

I heard this atheist say once that he had a lot of respect for fundamentalist evangelicals. If you were really convinced that the world was ending soon, wouldn't you try to save people from eternal damnation too? The problem is the anti-savior complex inevitably becomes the anti- love complex. "So stare at the ocean while your friends all drown, we all need to learn to swim anyway." The hipster doesn't seem to wanna save anybody from anything. I think they might just stand there and watch while it happened. They might even have a rope. 

I'd prefer to be saved.