V - the story of: desert patch
Friday, August 01, 2008

« desert patch »

I feel...like my engine is running on parched sand, extracting whatever energy from any source possible. I went with sleep last night, because my brother's music was loud enough to distract me, even at 4, 5, 6a.m. He is, by the way, uncontrollable. I can't discipline him, lest he turns around and vehemently screams at me, complaining I am ruining his life and I don't understand him.

And my heart has grown cold. Where is the passion? Where is the extra love for people? Feeling the needs and meeting them? Seeing broken hearts and healing them, by His grace? Where is my desire to see His kingdom come to life around me? Suddenly, this tree has stopped bearing fruit...

With friends around me, I just lose the motivation to continue ministering/having fellowship. I look around and I see that there maybe a problem. But my mind, heart and body do not act.

I am so dry...and I am scared I won't be able to pick up momentum again. I search under rocks, my sofa, the Word for Him, but I cannot hear Him...I do not see where He wants me...my ears are clamped shut, my eyes veiled by this apathetic demeanor and my heart suddenly beating to a different rhythm to my creator's...

Today, I went to a film shoot, to star in the new FIFA 08 game...I think for the intro, or whatnot. Apparently Rooney was involved somehow, like he might make an appearance or something; I didn't stick around long enough to find out. My uni mate asked me to register...you get £60 for the whole day...but he gave me the wrong number, so I couldn't get through. I promised him I'd go though...so I had to get up at 6, got the bus at 7am today. They shot it at the retail park at Ancoats...with Toys r Us. Just behind there. We had to parade down the back alleys and streets, chanting and screaming, clapping away. It was so embarrassing, because I don't even know any chants.

I affirm with initiative whenever football conversation arises, that I do not affiliate myself to any club. I just say that I am a fan of good football...so whoever is playing well that day on the whole, as opposed to solely individual skill. I felt stupid chanting and clapping away like my life depended on it...the conversation surrounding me made the brows frown from sceptism and well-found assumptions; football is shallow. People stereotype and allow history to dictate their behaviour towards someone with a different jersey to them. . It justifies the use of profanity and scathing remarks towards family, physical features and social status, because you wear a different shirt to someone else. Football does disgusting things to people. The thought I harboured then still haunts me even now; should I quit football altogether and segregate myself from this degrading business?

The ginger haired man, who was the agent for the Park Ji Sung advert back in March, was present today. He must have seen me and thought "Phwoar, this is ONE die hard fan! Trying to meet all the players from Man United! First Park, then Rooney!!"

Oh, the irony.

V

「€Œ 4:53 am 」 » Comments:




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