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People think it must be fun to be a super genius, but they don't realize how hard it is to put up with all the idiots in the world. - Calvin


Catharsis:
1 : PURGATION
2 a : purification or purgation of the emotions (as pity and fear) primarily through art b : a purification or purgation that brings about spiritual renewal or release from tension
3 : elimination of a complex by bringing it to consciousness and affording it expression

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Sunday, Nov. 24, 2002 - 9:20 A.M.
Isn't a night of sleep supposed to make things all better. Isn't it supposed to provide you with those essential answers to thos e unasked questions that linger in the back of your mind about whatever it is that seems to gnaw at you. Isn't that one of the wonderful functions of sleep. You dream about something and within that dream those wonderful answers appear out of no where? Well I dreamed about medieval tournaments and so forth, at least that is all I remember dreaming about and that is primarily because Derek, Leroy and I were up at Grapevine Mills yesterday and we passed a kiosk which sold swords and axes and all sorts of medieval armaments. I didn't dream of the actual tournament just that I was going to one. And not so much a tournament but rather a reenactment. Someone clever might come up with a more incisive dissection of this dream other than mere coincidental placement of object I saw while conscious into my dream. Like life is a tournament and at this particular moment in time I feel more a spectator than a participant. At this moment in time I feel completely incapable of helping anyone. I'm overcome with a sense of ennui, a sense of boredom with this life that words or actions can only hint at.

I don't think this has anything to do with the accident. I'm fairly certain. I just feel like somewhere along the way in this life I have lost my way. I'm not supposed to be here. I'm not supposed to be doing what I am doing.

The thing of it is, is simply this. I am dissatisfied.

Lord, help me see my life is my own. All that I do, all that I feel and think, all that I want and desire, is simply my own. Who I want, what I want, how I want it, this is all me. Help me to appreciate it, to know it and to strive to want it and more.

I have found that I have fallen away from my faith. A great deal. It bothers me that this is so.

I was looking at my arm the other day, the day after the accident, not the big black and purple one but the other one and you can see this short curve on my arm where something looks as though it grazed it. And this something is punctuated my a scratch, just a little one, a scratch with two little dots on each side of it. And it looks like the curve graze is the shape of the bridge we were on and the scratch and dots was the light pole that saved us from possibly going over the bridge onto the freeway below us. But when I first noticed this other arm and its markings all I saw was the curve of the bridge and a cross and I thought to myself that God was there with me in that moment. And any person who would stand on logic and look at the evidence would surely declare it merely fortuitous happenstance. Luck. Its a wonderful thing to ponder though, isn't it?

neurosis ~ catharsis