Stuck

It's times like these, when I'm caught in the small hours, that I feel like a prisoner inside myself. That doesn't make a lot of sense though... am I the prison, or the prisoner? Both, I think. I feel despair as a warm, soft hand cupping my face, supporting the dead weight of my head as my tears slowly soak the tangled ends of my hair, gathered in the foreign comfort of open palms. Inside I am so lonely. Outside I can only hope my flawed love serves a fruitful purpose.  I want what's best but it hurts.  I don't want it to hurt anymore.

Lets end this with a picture of a 6 and a half foot man dressed in a black leotard top and frilly tutu with a blond wig and tall black prostitute boots ordering a Whatacatch sandwich at Whataburger. When he ordered it, the cashier looked at him and said, "What A Catch you are!" To which the guy replied, "Who did you think they named the thandwich after, thithter?"

Comfort

Last night I took another long walk, like I normally do. This past spring when I was horribly sad, I would walk through the apartment complex of a particular person who I missed terribly, late at night, as part of my walking route. I'd always feel comforted for a few minutes as I passed through, knowing that this person who had abruptly disappeared from my life was close by.

I took that same route again last night, searching for comfort in the dark. When I got there, I passed by a couple of people standing in the parking lot and talking. I didn't know who it was until I passed by, and she said, "Hey Ash!" It was a girl I know from work who happens to live in that apartment building.

I stopped and was pleasantly surprised to see her. She had just gotten her car back from the shop and was talking to the guys who had fixed it. We stood outside at midnight and talked for about 15 minutes, and then I wished her a good night and continued my reading walk. I felt much better.

Funny how God offers us comfort from unexpected directions.

Dichotomy

Dear God:

What does friendship mean? Does such a thing exist in my life? If so, can it survive, whenever I constantly taint it with my own selfish pride? Is the idea of friendship mutually exclusive to the practice of it, or is that just my own notion? Why is it that when I feel love for someone, I expect something in return? Why can't I be selfless in my love for a friend? Is it just something that I have to figure out, something that will come with time and experience? I want to believe in the truth of selfless love. Is that enough, to want to believe?

Your unworthy servant,
Elias

A problem and a solution

So I just left Walgreens with the baddest-ass LED light known to mankind (I recently lost my reading flashlight). I was excited to get it open, of course, so I opened the package and 3 AAA batteries fell to the pavement. I picked them up and tried to put them in the flashlight, but for the life of me I couldn't figure it out. I spent about 10 minutes looking for a battery receptacle on this thing, then finally went back to Walgreens. The cashier would be my tech support.

So, I went back in and explained my dilemma. The tech support guy at the register manhandled the flashlight for about 30 seconds, when suddenly POP! A piece came off, and lo and behold, there was the place for the batteries.

Now, this story may seem trivial and not worth all the hoop-lah, but I truly was baffled as to where to put the batteries. And now I have a new flashlight, a really BRIGHT one... I mean, this thing is emergency bright. I think I might need sunglasses when I read at night...