A Strange Thing, This Lonneliness.

It is, a hard but true reality of the amount of loneliness that pervades my generation. So thus, as such, I feel compelled to write here.

It is a strange thing to be known by many, only by name of course. This sense of full engagement with no participation drives me to sorrow often. It's a weird form of rejecting the very thing that one desires. I do think alot of the foundations are the same but the outworking, the response, the reactions definitely become distinct.

I've been a watchful observer for quite a few years now. I've had "friends" tell me how cool we are and how down we are and even more. In these moments I hardly take them serious. Why? you ask. It's simple really. I don't trust you. I value loyalty to a fault, yet I only seek to be such, and really don't expect it. Especially when I see some of these "friends", going out, hanging out, playing sports, collaborating, calling, texting, eating and meeting together; all, without me. But I knew this already. I don't really like cliques. I often don't voice how this feels in certain moments because I hate guilt trips or any unnecessary attention (subjectively speaking). So once I'm seen or it comes to light that it's of notice, I [finally] get an invite, or an excuse. So instead of taking that (this) invite, I'll gladly refuse. Because it's about the principle really. I'm driven to stick to myself now.

I pay attention. Really I do. I love my people. It's true. So I give it all, I sacrifice, I bend over backwards just to be around. Because I believe that there are things more important that being selfish; people need people.

So, you, yes you my..... friend. I know you. I see you. I see through you not past you. Because that smile I see when we greet may be genuine but I kept looking as you past me. I watched your face fall. No!....it's not every case but I feel you sometimes. Because I watch you, all of you. And I feel you, but you don't feel me, you don't see me. My mask is covered by a mask and a mask of masked that are coated with layers of deception. And I can only be me but sometimes I have to ask, "who am I?" or better yet. Who am I right now. But today I'm pretty sure I've already been three versions of me, characters fit for moments that I'm pretty sure I wan not faking. OH! How confusing right? Yea, I feel that way to.

That's why I think it's a strange thing. All these beautiful women before, wanting and longing to be seen, to have some attention in a crowd of blind binoculars. Even more these young men, unlearned and un-led in what to look for, how to see or how to love. The most unfortunate thing is that these young men crave attention just the same. So we do, act, and show out for the attention of somebody, especially these ladies. And I must be the worst of all, because I want them all. and knowing I don't need this burden I fight. Yes, i fight for you. Because I'd rather be alone than to woo your hearts and fail you. And I think I'm pretty good at that no matter how you praise me.

This is a sad day for the Church. Such a lonely Church. Not all of us but way too many.

It is a strange thing to be known by many, only by name of course. This sense of full engagement with no participation drives me to sorrow often. It's a weird form of rejecting the very thing that one desires. I do think alot of the foundations are the same but the outworking, the response, the reactions definitely become distinct.

I pay attention. Really I do. I love my people. It's true. So I give it all, I sacrifice, I bend over backwards just to be around. Because I believe that there are things more important that being selfish; people need people.

So, you, yes you my..... friend. I know you. I see you. I see through you not past you. And I must be the worst of all, because I want them all. And knowing I don't need this burden I fight. Yes, I fight for you. Because I'd rather be alone than to woo your hearts and fail you. And I think I'm pretty good at that no matter how you praise me.

It's a strange thing, this loneliness. I wonder how Jesus felt.