confessions

i post up all sorts of writings here and, maybe if you know me, you'd say i'm a nice guy. i certainly take pride in thinking that i am more moral than the next guy, i guess.

i was thinking today about all the prostitutes and Playboy cover girls. i was thinking how you have your firemen who make a living out of serving people. they fight fires and they help people in their time of need. i was thinking how you have everyday people like workers at convenience stores, who are a service because without them, we wouldn't be able to get things like food or household items. and i was thinking, no offense, that it's a little awkward that prostitutes or Playboy cover girls have to make their living out of selling their bodies, almost making themselves into objects of others' enjoyment. i guess it's a service, but why is the market so high in the first place? is there really enough demand that the supply is just increasing steadfastly, over the last decade, on television shows, the Internet, seemingly everything that has anything to do with culture?

we want satisfaction. we just do. sexual satisfaction. i hate that i'm typing this up here when i know that some people will see this and see me for who i am. and if not my identity, then something i struggle with. is that really so bad? i guess i'll leave it all on the floor. i want to be beautiful, yes. i want to be just like what anybody else wants. loved, special, unique. and all of these promises that come from stray places keep tearing me down, and i am senseless in my commitment to them. the commitments i had thought were broken.

anyways, i'm not this person who...thinks the sex and prostitution and pornography market is lame. in fact, i even indulge in it. i would acknowledge this as a problem and i would acknowledge that i don't like this part of myself and i would say that...dropping to standards like that is pretty classless. and i know that...saying this, i risk a lot. i know i can lose anybody's respect at this very moment. i know i am probably automatically the guy you wouldn't want to date, or see a respectable girl date, or see your daughter date, and i know full well that there's not much i can say to that. guilty as charged, i'm not worth it.

and here's the catch - there is none. i don't feel worth it either. i don't know.

i don't really feel like a Christian right now. i feel distanced from God. going through motions. foolishly wasting away. i don't seem to have the initiative to seek out God. i don't feel like i should just start talking to Him like nothing happened tonight, because there is a lot of sin that i filled my night with just now. i mean, things like this should be addressed. at the same time, the relationship shouldn't be cut off completely.

i feel like i am way too dependent on feelings. i know it's not bad to feel good...but it's bad to only pursue to feel good, because half the time, what feels good is possibly what is weighing you down. who am i to say what is good for me? i don't even know me very well.

i have fallen. i ran away today from sinning, but i think i might have run away to running instead of running to God. anyways, i ended up really sinning and screwing up pretty badly tonight. maybe God will read my blog.

dear God,

do you really believe in me?

because i'm not so sure who i am anymore.

david.