I'm still dealing with a bad case of writer's block. And classmates who do everything at the very last minute when it comes to important group assignments. 'Cause, y'know, last minute is the new "on time" these days. And sometimes I hope it doesn't rub off on me, 'cause I used to be a world class procrastinator. But still I find myself procrastinating again, choice or no choice.
We humans live in the paradox of believing that we have all the time in the world yet wait for the adrenaline to kick in when we realize that we don't. Time is like a ride in an airplane: feels like it's moving very slow but in reality is going much quicker. Some will enjoy the ride, some will hate it. Time is a love/hate relationship.
Nah, I'm not complaining. Just trying to wake my brain up. It has a mind of its own, and it wants to be a rebel. A good rebel. A good one and a foolish one at the same time. It also lives in a paradox. It yearns to do good but rebels against the owner unknowingly.
Reminds me of a bible verse:"For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate." (Romans 7:15)
It's 10 AM on a Monday and the first thing that hits my brain after I sit down to eat breakfast is this: The blueberries in my blueberry oatmeal are purple. They should be called purpleberries...
Yep, that's how serious my writer's block is. But it did get me typing, right? It just formulated a domino effect to get me doing something at all. It's funny how that works.
And I just used a word that I normally don't use and unknowingly used it in the proper context... Formulated... Formulated... My brain knows things that I didn't even know I knew at all. Hah...!
Will the brain juices be running now? Will the juices be poured into a cup to become a nice drink or down the sink hole in a straight line? My creative brain juices also live in a paradox. They creatively find ways to talk about how uncreative they feel.
Just like those blueberries. 'Cause they're not really blue. They're purple.
And it's just like that. I'm not really blue
. I'm just waiting to be free from a prison that my brain tries to lock me in against my own will. My feelings don't define me, nor does what other people think. Who am I to fear the pain of disappointments when I can just be...me? The misunderstood me who people find reasons to hate even when she tries so hard to maintain the peace. Why, let her speak her mind and not let her kill herself with the very idea that people will nitpick and call her an enemy for speaking what is true to what God put inside her heart. Stop being crushed by the filth that lives within the people who hurt your delicate soul for only wanting the best in others, for wanting the spiritual. Stop letting them kill you inside, for if they had a mind to listen they wouldn't be leaving you in the dust. They're broken. Just like you. But a different kind of broken. Don't let them murder your spirit, for you are unable to die anyway. God made you alive again, so live like you are; you are a beautiful person who deserves to be loved like anybody else, and you don't need to feel guilt from it. So stop acting like you're not, 'cause God says you are.
That's what I needed to tell myself. That's still what I need to tell myself.
And somehow, it all ties in together and starts to make sense.
All this. From blueberries in a cup of oatmeal.
If you yourself have been going through some recent hurt, you may also be surprised where you can find even the tiniest piece of inspiration to drive you forward.
God bless and thanks for reading!
~ Jazzy C. Oaks