It's been a little over two years. I want to start posting on here again. But first I have to have something to post. Hmph. NaNoWriMo starts in November, I could pound out a 50,000 word novel in thirty days if I wanted to, right? I guess if you take off the stigma of fine-tuning or trying to be realistic and just write, it would work. Can I do that? I trap myself every step of the way. A creative minefield, KABOOOOOM.

I've written a little, but mostly it's just been me siphoning a little bit of my insanity out. I'd like to explore that a little bit further. Maybe if I can write something really messed up it will finally leave my head. Maybe it's like that diseased gypsy pie in Thinner. I just need to bleed it out, and then give it to someone else. (Not that I want to infect anyone with my insane-brain gypsy pie.)

I've been wrestling with God a lot. In Jonah, the titular prophet is super pissed at God for various reasons. He's angry at God for having compassion on people he deems unworthy, even though they repent. Then he's angry at God for taking something away from him that God provided in the first place. God asks him if he has any right to be angry. Jonah says, "I do. I am so angry I could die." It always makes me laugh. It's just so brutally honest. It's like a drop of water telling the ocean it doesn't much care for its decision-making process. I love Jonah for being so angry and expressing that. I guess I've been feeling like a lightning bolt will hit me if I start asking too many questions. But then again, to search out the heart of a matter is for kings, or whatever. I want to get down and dirty with God and ask him bigger and more complicated questions, even if I don't get them answered. I want to be ok to be me, and not this like fake-happy person who just parrots all this spiritual crap by rote. I want to be like, "Ok God, not cool."

I want to find out who I am. I keep looking at the mirror but I'm never quite sure what it is I'm looking at. I don't think he's real, whoever he is. Am I inside of him or is he inside of me? What do I look like without the body? There's a pooch starting in my lower abdominal area, my fabulous inheritance from a long line of gut-heavy McDorman men. What is the concept of I? Am I even important? What am I doing here? You can have enough explanations about God to get by reasonably well, but where are the explanations about me? Ohhh, I used to cut up my skin, it felt so good. The scars don't bother me anymore. They're so old, they're fading. Little ridges, no one really notices. I feel semi-defiant about them. Like, "Oh, shattered your expectations about me, did they? Ho ho!" It's nice to finally be ok with that. Wonder when that happened. It helps that I tan so easy.

My teeth feel slimy without braces.

School starts in two weeks. Oh boy! Smoking was banned on campus so now I won't have to be so tempted all ze time. By the way it's been eight months today. Nine months without greens. This morning I was uncleans. But I guess God forgives me anyway. What are straight boys like? Do they size up girls the way I size up boys? How does it make them feel? How does it feel to be sexually normal? Seems easier, but I hear it's not.