as they say, honesty is the best policy

So I've been trying to write every night for the last few nights.  I've posted a couple things, but, really, they haven't fully expressed where I'm at right now.  I tend to try to keep things a bit (well, you know, kind of) polished on here, but life isn't polished.  It's messy and confusing and sometimes it's really sweet, but sometimes it's pretty brutal.  If you want to know the truth it's that I'm rough around the edges and I'm feeling raw and I don't always, okay, I rarely, know what I'm thinking and when I write things I'm usually more or less yelling them really loud in my head as I type them. 

Annnnnd now commencing the honesty/excavating-my-soul/digging-deeper-than-I-probably-should-and-unleashing-it-on-you business.

I cannot, FOR THE LIFE OF ME, cry.  I keep trying.  Yes, I've become my own bully, but in a sappy way.  I keep reading stuff and hearing stuff and watching stuff that makes me want to cry, you know just that spontaneous overflow of emotions junk, and I CAN'T.  I even got really bad allergies after going running one day and my eyes watered to maximum, but nothing past that happened. Tears tingle the back of my eyeballs, glaze over the front of my eyeballs, even well up, but they just won't spill.  Maybe it's silly, but all my hopes are riding on this.  No, seriously.  I feel like if I could just cry, life would do a 180, maybe with like a kickflip for style.  Like if I could just feel that salty H20 mixture running down my chubby cheeks, I would magically get motivation to do life and inspiration to make a good story out of it.  Like if I could just get my emotions back, everything would be right in the world.  Maybe it's not so silly after all.  See, the way I see it, emotions, feelings, passion - those are the things that make the world go 'round.  And right now I don't have them.  So my little world stopped spinning.  I sleep a lot now.  And mindlessly listen to music.  And write sometimes.  I clean the house on Fridays (that's my rent).  I run at the park some mornings.  And I talk about what I'm going to do.  And ignore texts from my friends. 

See what I'm doing right now, that's not living.

And I could sit here and write about what living is and what it means to be alive and how cool that is and how we should all live deliberately and really, all you've got to do is just get up and do!  But it's actually a lot harder than that.  I know there is a point and a purpose and a Will in all of this.  I have to believe that because I don't serve a passive God, I don't serve a God who acts according to His whims without meaning; I serve an all-loving, all-powerful God who is at this moment painting a dark spot on the canvas of my life.  A canvas that, when done, will glorify Him.  You can't appreciate the bright if you've never seen the dark.