Now, onto the point...
I have a craving for intellectual stimulation. This summer has played on every other aspect of myself as a human being and now I need to think. Not some sort of internal evaluation or anything of the likeness, but some good old fashioned book learning. I think that is why I am so excited to start school already. I'm tired of being on campus day in and day out, going to meetings that are useless but satisfy Nicole's need to micromanage. I do the same monotonous tasks and give updates on slow moving changes, make trips to marketing, argue with Nicole over making trips to marketing, and then head right back to attempting at planning bigger and better events. I have put out a lot of hype, and I sure as hell plan on seeing it all out. I just need some excitement in the form of knowledge. It's gotten to the point where I am up until about 3 in the morning watching the latest updates on fox hoping to absorb every bit of information.
I need another art course or possibly a writing class, finally. I haven't truly written anything creatively for about two years now and it sucks.
As for my previous post, life is a bit better on the family front. No, money has not magically appeared in our hands, it is instead disappearing rather quickly. Somehow though, amidst all this resentment and fear, it is just what we needed as a family. My sister is less than rude now and my father is learning to actually interact with us rather than being the man behind the scenes. There are no scenes to be behind now and he has been forced to be a parent. I'm not in any way demeaning his skills as a father, but he lacks the ability to openly communicate with those around him as freely as he seems to want. Also, my mother is becoming less of a crazy bitch than earlier, because she knows that we are all sacrificing and her fear of losing control has been met and the world hasn't exploded. There have been tears, oh yes, but we are learning that there are ways of maintaining the most important foundation to anyone's happiness, which is a home. Not a house in which you dwell, but a haven, kept only in the hearts of those you love.
Which reminds me...
As of late I have found myself questioning my faith more and more. I seemed to have lost any and all belief in the religion I had once identified myself with. No longer was it the center of my life, but a looming shadow of doubt lurking in the back of my mind. Not only had my lapses in assuredness forced me into a constant state of confusion, but also overwhelmed me with a guilt I had not felt before. How could I question the one thing I was raised to always take refuge in? When did I stop believing in God and start leading a life of sin? What constituted sin if I had been a generally good person but had minor questions? Did said questions become a greater sin than any imagined?
As I said, I was confused. But, as a result of my recent familial situations, my mother's religious instinct finally kicked in as we sat to eat this evening. When we were a newer family, younger, we would pray until each thought had been heard and every miracle thanked. More recently though, we would simply thank the maker of the meal and be off on our individual ways. As my mother served the food tonight and we began our usual routine, she asked in the most meek manner if we would pray with her and my father. For those of you who know her, she is nothing less than boisterous and overbearing, so to hear her ask in such a way immediately stole my attention from my surroundings. Then, as one who had come to resent her religion, as many resent what they do not know, I took their hands with exasperation in my breath and sarcasm in my mind. To my surprise, my father began speaking to God. He thanked Him for our meal and did the regulatory "bless hims" and "bless hers" and finally said, "and I pray for those people who are trying to help us, Lord, that they may be strong and do what is best for them and theirs." Where the hell did that come from? Immediately my inner faith, the reserves which none could effect, was restored and I felt the genuine feeling of contentedness that I had not felt in a long time. I began to believe in the God I was taught of as a child and the God I had grown to love as a teenager. Now as I am drowning in these problems of mine, I am reminded of that one dude named Jesus and all that jazz. Corny, I know, but I am a little bit more whole now that I've found my marbles (which, for metaphors sake, would be the multi-colored kind but with a small cross or something inside. I don't know, something religious. haha) and I almost feel like the lesson to the crapfest has been learned and everything HAS to get better now.
We'll see. Maybe it is simply my way of finding hope throughout this endeavor, maybe I am inventing some sort of escape for my family to take, and maybe I am just questioning again, but I sure as hell like this piece of life I've had returned.
PEACE.
