It's like, right now I'm just waiting for Christmas to roll around so I can feel the small euphoria of delight in materialistic items I hardly need.
But only out of the selfish act that I want a moment of pure glee in the tiny fraction of ignorant bliss.
But honestly, I hardly care that I'm living to see those moments. I'm sucked into this elaborate labyrinth of my own thoughts, that I'm pretty much brewing in the haze of it's confusion. I'm not even present, well hardly. But I'm not even impatiently waiting to be awaken. I'm feeling quite patient right now, because it's in God's hands. And I find some shock in that statement, because rarely do I find myself leaving everything to God.
Even if I physically say "Alright God, it's in your hands now" I don't really give it all up. I still try to fix things.
But now, I don't feel a need for that.
I'm just going to coast along this lazy river until I get that "God prod" to do something.
There's nothing urgent pressing on my mind, and I'm at a level of peace.
Which, quite honestly, is so reassuring to my existence.
I feel a neutrality that I've never quite achieved before, and I'm content.
I find it disappointing that I cannot fully express myself to a single being due to impatient interruptions, but it almost doesn't matter.
I've become content in myself and I don't feel a need to complain about my lack of motivation, because I'm actually trying. There is no "lacking" because it's actually there.
It's a bit of light shed on my up and down situation, but it's got so much hope within its seams.
Recent events have taken loads off of my shoulders, and God is helping to carry it.
He knows my heart, and he's helping mend it.
And I'm content with the solitude I've placed on myself.