lacking

i think it's a beautiful thing to be vulnerable. it's beautiful when everything goes down in flames and there is no tomorrow and you're just trying to get past that moment, and nothing else matters, and you do things you would have never done before.

i watched a little bit of Beauty and the Geek, some reality TV show where they matched hot ditzy-esque girls with socially challenged geeks and sent them through challenges to win money. and one of the girls who had gotten into the finals or maybe not even that far was talking to the camera in a small room (kind of like a confessional booth, where the room is kind of like a spacious closet only meant for people to talk to the camera about their thoughts). she was crying, saying how she felt shallow, how she saw that maybe it didn't make any sense at all to put so much value on how she looked. and i think she saw that it didn't make her any better than anyone else, and she had no right to treat these geeks like they were subhuman, just because people liked her and nobody liked them.

i watched a little bit of the RealWorld-Road Rules challenge Duel thing on MTV, which is pretty much the same concept as before except all the people are hot and battling for even more money. there was this elimination match between two guys, two of the top guys or something, and after an excruciatingly long time, one guy won. at the end, he went back to his hotel room and called his fiancee and broke down. he was vulnerable, crying, but he couldn't really move because he was so tired. he was exhausted, he totally spent himself trying to win the challenge, and when he finally won it, he wasn't sure he deserved it, and was more unsure that he didn't enjoy it: the win. he said if he had to go through it all again, he didn't know what he would do, but he wouldn't want to go through it all - that was how physically grueling it was. he said he didn't know why he was doing it anymore - the whole game - and whether or not it was worth it, especially to eliminate someone who had gone out with just as much pain, just as much maxed-out effort as he had. vulnerable.

and i did something. i ran away from home one weekend and ran away from God because i was mad i was losing to lust and i ran away on the main streets, keeping a fast pace because i wanted it to hurt. and it was cold - like 35 degrees or so, and i had a t-shirt and some basketball shorts on. it was like five miles later, i ended up someone's house. i didn't really want anything more than to be there...i don't think i was welcomed. i didn't feel like it, anyway. i ran away from there and maybe about half a mile or more later, my legs started cramping up, first just a little. like if i kept on running, the pain would go away for a little. i felt like crap...because i didn't have anywhere to be. when i passed 71st and yale, headed south, my left leg shut down. it cramped and i couldn't really go on. i sat down on the sidewalk, but i did in such a position that my right leg started cramping just the same, or my hip, or something else. and so i ended up lying on the sidewalk, crying, because my left leg was dead and my right leg was dead and any movement would shoot pain through me, and i didn't want to go home, and i didn't want to go to God's home, and the only home i wanted to go to wouldn't welcome me.

i screamed at God that He was right. that i was wrong. that i just needed to be saved. i felt worser because i wanted someone to stop and help me out, but no one did. it was dark and cold, and i was yelling in pain. vulnerable.