Writing is emotional labor. My writing stretches pieces of me along the page as I write. I seem unable to throw what I am thinking and feeling into a few sentences, I live in the parenthesis, I find I can't end my thoughts with neat simple periods.

I've been particularly conflicted this week. I have lots to write about but no time to do it. I'm waiting the results of some dimwitted decisions this week. If things work out in the way I expect I will have a few very drab posts.

I started writing this blog again in hopes of giving light hearted commentary, but a dark vein seems to spread through my writing on its own.

This is probably due to my insistent focus on myself for the last month or so. Anybody that tells you that your guide to happiness and self-fulfillment starts with focusing on you is Lyyyyiiinnngggg!!!!

I've become aware that I need to get my focus back on God, where it belongs. How many times will I have to learn this lesson? Will this time be the last? I doubt it. It's a different lesson really; it's slight variations on the same theme.

My compromises weren't great leaps of moral degradation, they were small slips, inward struggles that I began loosing because I've been skipping my quite times in the morning.

Without a focus on God, without spending time in prayer, church, and the Bible I become a gray person. Doubt and fear create this self-loathing, reclusive, apathetic individual I see in the mirror.

It makes sense, place a tree in darkness and it will twist itself; stretch to meet a single ray of light. My sprit was in the midst of twisting, searching, for that ray of light for the last couple of weeks.

I want to write more on this, and other things. How much would I have to say if I lived and interesting life?

BTW – I installed the software to post pics up, what can I say, I like it a lot!!