If you're a fan of Michael Moore or his film "Bowling for Columbine" then you may want to check out his official website, where activism is made easy.

Speaking of which, if anyone knows who I can bitch at about the subject lines in my junk mail folder, I would appreciate the info. I mean, an add for viagra, or even member enlargment, these are one thing, but when in the process of scanning my folder for personal emails not on the safe list, I have to read obscene references to various sexual..... practices?? I shouldn't have to read those, I shouldn't even have to put a filter on my inbox. I shouldn't be recieving any email I didn't ask for.

Who can I shake my fist at?? Who can I sue?? Who can I call?? Is there a petition somewhere I can sign?? I will go WAY out of my way to see the tide of sex marketing subside.

While I'm at it, has anyone seen the new "mini" commercial. It's some vehicle with a spacious enough backseat for a guy to do two girls at a time. I don't know how it got on the air. It's as angering as those Herbal Essences commercials.

I'm losing my patience at an alarming rate.

I recently recieved an email from South Africa, wondering when I was returning to Africa and whether I'd consider an offer of accomodation.

Of course, the simple suggestion thrust me into a flurry of memories and fantasies and wishful thinking and..... nostalgic depression.

I'm thinking about white stone houses and brick walls with spike-tipped metal gates.... barbed wire and broken bottles glinting in the moonlight.... lizards and sunlight and sugarcane.

Just cuz I don't talk about it anymore doesn't mean it doesn't eat me up inside.

Following is a picture of Victoria Falls. I was there. It smelled good. This post took place just a little ways up from the bridge, to your right, on the bank of the river just before it curves around to where the water crashes down. That spot is called "The Boiling Pot" and people frequently die there.

Last night I slept.

Granted, I woke up frequently. Sure, I dreamt..... but the dream was less sinister, composed of fond memories..... and when I woke up 5 minutes earlier, I felt rested.

As rested as you can feel after two weeks of tumultuous sleep. I need to make good use of this weekend..... by sleeping.

Last night I read some of the Psalms, according to Clark's suggestion, and then spent a little time praying before bed...... it seemed to help.

I have to do my homework now, and go to bed. I'm so tired.....

so tired........



......


so tired.....

You are Neo, from "The Matrix." You
display a perfect fusion of heroism and
compassion.


What Matrix Persona Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

I was supposed to be the one person she'd never have to forgive."

It's condemnation and guilt that I've been feeling and as I identify the voices, I'm obtaining a measure of clarity.

The first thing that became clear was that I've taken on too much responsibility for something which does not need to be, nor should be, on my shoulders.

The second thing I came to grips with is that yes, I am angry. So angry that it interferes with my prayers, and I need to forgive her.

The third is regarding unhealthy soul ties....... yes I went to bible school, and I know the lingo, I just usually choose not to use it...... soul ties seem awfully explanatory to me but if you've never heard of this before it has to do with attaching yourself to someone on a spiritual level..... sometimes it's good, but in this case, it was bad. Thus, it needs to be broken, that is, in order to relinquish my feelings of responsibility and condemnation.

So that will be a tough prayer and I'll get to it maybe..... tomorrow? The night is quickly evaporating, which brings me to a completely different issue...... my chaotic sleep stealing dreams, the ones that have been relentlessly pursuing me for the last two weeks. At this point, I've been napping during my lunch hours because I am simply not getting enough rest at night, and that's with plenty of actual sleep......

I've been finding myself afraid to go to sleep, thinking that one of these nights the chaos will turn to horror, so I need to make a point of praying about that before bed..... if anyone else would like to pray about that, it would be greatly appreciated. If I was better rested, I'd feel a lot more capable of handling all the other stuff that's been on my mind.

Regarding the issue of Prayer vs. Free Choice....... Here's what I've come up with, with some help from Rick Joyner.... I can't remember the name of the book but I read it a long time ago and recently remembered some noteworthy details that I thought I'd share.

The problem is that people make decisions based on information given to them and a lot of the time that information comes in the form of lies whispered in their ear..... I'm getting into some spiritual warfare stuff here which is mostly abandoned territory for me but I'm just gonna jump right in cuz it's that important to me..... if the lies weren't being whispered then the decisions would be better informed...... right?

So perhaps I'll alter my prayers to be a little more strategic, and go after the voices. I'll have a talk with God about maybe slaughtering those demons. If you translate spiritual concepts into something logical and tangible.... something economic...... (I should have been a Vulcan) then it only makes sense to eliminate the excess cargo from something that's intended to rise. Or, imagining the individual targeted to be a horse, sniping the rider would leave the halter with free reigns which could then be seized by a more compassionate Master.

yes?

Again, pictures.

What I have now is a plan of action. I feel better. What do you think? It's kinda like spiritual mapping, which I used to read up on a lot.

Hey Clarkie, remember that night you don't remember..... the night we met?? You prayed for me about spiritual mapping. Weird, hey?

wow. long post. I'm done for now...... for now. I mean, dude, there's just so much.

Exerpt from my first day of creative journalling homework.

I just want to cry. I want to find some friendly arms and sink into them. I'm tired of standing up, tired of being brave, I wasn't meant to be like that. Yet so often I try to be, so often I convince myself that I'm alone, that I'm the only one who will look after me. Deep down I know that's not true, yet somehow I live as though it was. And then times like now I find myself so tired, and ready to crash, and I wonder how I got htis way and why I'm so tired and where these dreams are coming from and why my body hurts and I haven't laughed in such a long time.

But if I'd only let God look after me the way He wants, the world wouldn't be quite so terrifying. And if I'd only open up to the people around me, I wouldn't feel quite so alone.

I've learned this time and again and yet I always find myself in this place. On the brink of tears, full of anger and frustration, so tired I can't even think straight. My body isn't tired, but my mind, my spirit, the exhaustion therein is enough to drive me to my bed for days.

I will find my way out of this tunnel, this botle that i sealed myself into. All the world is dark brown through the glass but I'll find a way to pop the cork and then I'll see clearly again.

Oooooh..... Look at all the stupid people.

I have no love for humanity today. I'm suffering fantasies of violence. Today it would be fun to walk through downtown with a flame thrower.

Sometimes I wish I could just walk up to them and explain why they're stupid. Make the world better by showing them their flaws. Prevent future acts of profound stupidity.

The thing about stupidity is it doesn't listen to reason. This is why Neanderthals walk the streets and the gene pool is terribly polluted.....

Praise God I'm not from around here. Oh please, can I go home soon? If this planet weren't so poorly inhabited, they might have discovered warp drive by now and then I could finally remove myself from all the absurdity.

I'm supposed to be doing this writing excercise for my creative journalling class...... write a stream of consciousness for 15 minutes. I was thinking about doing that first but I didn't want to lose my initial "just got home from work" aggravation, since it's so beautifully fresh and fragrant.

But now I have to go do my homework. I'll let you know if anything noteworthy pops out of my subconscious.

I was driving on main street, on my way to pick up a friend for our creative journalling class, just singing along to my ani difranco cd, minding my own business.

I notice that the car beside me is keeping my speed, not passing, and I have a pretty good idea what's going on. Unfortunately for the poor shmucks in the grey beater in the next lane, I don't feel like playing this game.

So I turn my head to look at the black dude hanging out of his window making kissy faces in my direction, and then I hit the brakes.

As the guys figure it out and slow down as well, I step on it. Buzzing right by them, I switch lanes and pull in front of them, then proceed to weave my way through traffic towards the turnoff.

There's something so unappealing to me about this situation, so much so that I instinctively give guys the brushoff. Sometimes I sit in my car at red lights and watch guys on sidewalks follow scantily clad women as they walk by..... and it makes my skin crawl. Heaven forbid I ever become that woman...... I don't want those eyes on me.

Not that I invite that kind of attention in any way. Most of my life people have been mistaking me for a boy. But then on nights like tonight I turn my head and see some scrub guy in some scrub car.....

Gross.

Some days, attraction based on physical appearance feels like a dirty thing. I think this is a result of the warped society I live in. One day I'm gonna get sucked in a relationship of some sort, and I imagine it will involve a certain amount of physical attraction....... and I don't want that to feel dirty...... but it might. It always has.

I'm tired now and I have to go to bed, so I'm not really articulating myself very well..... suffice to say that I had this experience and it made me feel very indignant, and somewhat objectified, and it wasn't even a big deal.

Anyways, hitting the brakes works really well for ditching scrubs. And then cutting them off.

I like to think there's a reason for everything.

This is perhaps why I wasn't overly surprised to find out that the friend I've been stressing about all week was in a little bit of trouble. The details of this situation aren't necessary, but it was an overall fiasco. Clark went to pick her up and put her to bed here, then drove some other people back to steinbach. She didn't get in till about 5:30 am, so naturally she slept quite late this morning.... or I should say afternoon.

I woke up and laid awake in bed for quite some time. A million things were going through my head, the complexities of relationships, the further complications of substance abuse, the pure oddness of the fact that I didn't want to be alone with this friend. I don't have anything nice to say. I've run out of compassion, though I don't tend to do so. I suppose foolishness born of ignorance is something I can understand, but pissing away your life just for the hell of it? I've known her too long, I've seen it too many times, I've heard all the excuses. I understand it all so completely...... and yet I don't.

I just..... really love her.

I'd rip off my favorite arm and give it to her, if I thought it meant that she would be okay.

So I finally drag myself out of bed, and I know she's up, watching tv downstairs, but I can't bring myself to go down there. I make some tea and read a book for a while, then decide to take the doggers for a walk. After our walk I leave the dog at home and go to my thinking spot.

Not quite a block away, my thinking spot is under a tree, on a bench, in front of a ukrainian orthodox church. There a stained glass window shows Jesus standing with his arms outstretched, his disciples beneath him with tongues of fire on their heads. It's there I planned on continuing to read, but I took a moment to rest my elbows on my knees, fold my hands, and say a quick prayer for my friend, and take a look up at that beautiful window. As though Jesus Himself was descending to take my hands and ask me if there's anything I needed.

I just need her to be okay

And then there were tears, painful gutwrenching sobs, and from somewhere deep inside came a groaning..... I hate it so much, this helplessness I feel. Were my prayers more powerful, would they make a difference? Had I eloquent speech, could I alter her path? Had I loads of money, could I buy her peace of mind? I have nothing but this deep deep deep wish for her well-being but that's just not good enough.

Needless to say, I didn't get to my book.

How could I read, when I was desperately trying to figure out..... what's the point of praying, when at the end of the day, humanity's free will gets the veto? I mean, I can pray all day and all night, but if she decides to just sh*t around, she's free to do that, right? No one, not even God, can force her to make positive choices.

What function then, in these situations, do prayers serve? In any situation? On a spiritual plane where coercement and manipulation are not permitted..... how can prayers change things?

A question I need an answer to, especially because I've known for a long time that God wants me to spend a significant amount of time praying..... it's just one of those things that I'm meant to do.

But how can I be meant to do something that's meaningless? I need to understand what's been asked of me, and I need to know how to do it well.