Pss. 38:10 “My heart panteth, my strength faileth me: as for the light of mine eyes, it also is gone from me.”
A Break… I’m Not Clay
It is with great distress that I need to announce a break. Whether physically or mentally I know myself too well to stick around to watch the hellfires consume the people I love. I want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart who has inspired me to continue writing. This year has been an active place of healing for me, and I thank you with love.
You’ve told me over and over again how I lift your spirits, how you love my honest writing, how it is I that inspires YOU when it is some of you that inspires ME! I look for that inspiration every day in my life but don’t always find it where I look. Am I looking in the wrong places? Apparently yes.
Facebook is becoming a desert, a desolate place where vultures linger and seek to suck every bit of life out of one living cactus. I’m a very sensitive person to the point the tiniest pinprick causes me to burst in a way I’m not accustomed to. Sorry, I don’t play your little games of ‘popularity’. Games, that’s all it is behind your mask. Well, I’m not clay, you’re not going to shape me into a hater, racist pig. I see people thinking they’re helping by spreading hate but they are a part of the demolition crew that is destroying this world.
Whether it is in YouTube comments or Yahoo comments or on Facebook, the vultures feed off of the sensitivity and I cringe when I hear/read the battle cry of joy when they’ve doused the light of the one shining brightness in a darkened world. They enjoy seeing people in pain. It is some kind of sickness that they embrace and I totally need to step away, to breathe.
A reality hit me last week when I had the pleasure of listening to this tiny little twelve-year-old, Grace VanderWaal, sing her heart out.
One of her songs went like this:
I don’t know my name
I don’t play by the rules of the game
So you say I’m just trying
Just trying… to find my way.
Another of her songs Clay was one of my favorites. It touched me in a place that not many long time experienced writers touch me and here was this little girl, thinking she couldn’t sing, taking the world by storm and marking her spot in history. The elite vultures are going to devour her and place the obstacles of fame and popularity on her doorstep and while she has loving parents to protect her, they can only do so much.
“Your silly words
I won't live inside your world
Cause your punches and your names
All your jokes and stupid games
They don't hurt
No they don't hurt
Watch them just go right through me
Because they mean nothing to me
I'm not clay”
~ 12-year-old singer/songwriter Grace VanderWaal lyrics
Like me wanting to protect people from their harsh reality of prejudice, racism, bigotry and hypocritville, people fall victim day in and day out and there is no protector. Sure they claim they have God as a protector, but too many times I see them as food for the vultures more than I see the Living God in them. They are being devoured and I have a weak stomach for mangled flesh.
Yesterday my stomach churned as if I was on the Zipper at the fair. I watched a good movie but it wasn’t enough to help relieve the motion sickness I felt in my stomach for mankind. Satan is trying to attack me from every angle whether it is my son (who will be out of his new job in two months due to the store closing down) or my love of nature; my ceramic birdbath fell yesterday cracking like a clay vase falling from the thirteenth floor with irreparable damage. Then there is the loss of respect for friends I once admired and looked up to as they slither in the snake pit, now I only see a darkness shrouding their beings. It’s all too much for me to bear and TRY to be a positive light in these dark and solemn times. I need to re-energize.
Maybe a break will help. Maybe I’ll unplug the computer completely and just vanish in an air of shrouded mystery. Maybe a day or two will be enough or maybe I need more time, only time will tell, eh? I need to breathe and only my commitments will stay while I take a step back from virtual reality. It’s not and never was a nice fit for me. TO ME, the virtual world is a huge department store on Black Friday filled to capacity with nude mannequins. I see a human off in the distance but I’ll never reach them because the mannequins will topple on top of me and smother me to death.
When I feel the anger and negativity start to boil over like water left on the stove, and I begin to lash out with hatred in my veins I know it’s time for me to get away from that which sickens me. I won’t be molded and formed into the hate-filled people that seem to run the virtual society. People are vicious and they hold no shame. Me, I’m ashamed of this place. I need to breathe because I’m NOT CLAY!
Author's note: *
*sorry Mike, I tried to see the good in a damned world.
* I'll continue writing, bookmark my blog
Deuteronomy 31:6 KJV
Be strong and of a good courage,
fear not, nor be afraid of them:
for the LORD thy God,
he it is that doth go with thee;
he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.