The Roller Coaster

I can't believe I haven't written in 11 days. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? If I write for therepeutic reasons, does this mean for the past 11 days I've just been bottling things up inside or does it merely mean that nothing of significance occurred such that I required psychologically therepeutic measures? Regardless, this first paragraph has little to do with the title of the blog.

The roller coaster that I ride the most often is a strange one. I continue to ride it, week after week, and yet I don't even really enjoy doing it. It's some sort of strange compulsion that draws me onto the wild ride that it always takes me on. In fact, it almost feels like I never get off. It's like the one time that a friend of mine (Peter Foltin) and I sat on Wild Beast for three runs straight. That was intense and I'm not sure something I'd like to repeat ever again in my life >_<

But then again, does it feel like I never get off because I never DO get off? Is it really a compulsion that draws me in, or is it just etched into the inner programming of who I am to endure this jolting, headpounding, heartrending, gutwrenching, innardtwisting ride for the rest of my life? Is there nothing that makes the tracks smoother and more stable, makes the ups and downs more steady, stable, and less volatile? Do I want to know?

Have I, in fact, grown addicted to the highs of volatile ups and downs - despite the fact that I currently lament this most cursed thing? How often do we as people actually begin to secretly enjoy the feeling of feeling sorry for ourselves and having others prop us up instead of trusting in and depending on the LORD our God, the only one who can provide the true answer to the problems we face?

Also... why is it that the last two paragraphs have been nothing but questions? The answer to that one at least, I know - ever since I started RSS feeding this blog onto Facebook, the possibilities for people to stumble upon these words have become suddenly so much greater, and it has taught me that I need to be more guarded in what i say. perhaps this is a good thing. Self-control, after all, is not a vice, but a virtue - a virtue that is most excellently found in the best of men (and women).

Or perhaps I am now just rambling and attempting to crystallize my thought patterns into some sort of coherent shape and form. Though this makes the most sense, what is pouring out makes much less sense - leading me to wonder how much sense my inital statement of making sense actually makes. How many people read that last sentence and then had to read it again? I know I did.

It is now 1:44 am. The night grows middle aged. I sit here, not knowing what to write.

It is now 1:45 am. Suddenly, thoughts of the LSAT flood my mind. The colourful markers on the white sheets of paper that i have plastered various areas of the house with jump into my mind as I consider all the work still left ahead of me. This test is the biggest I will have ever written in my life (besides maybe the CCAT).

It is now 1:46 am. I tire of this useless exercise of writing down the thoughts that occur to me each minute that passes. It even makes me wonder if I am not just wasting my time. I resolve to go to bed. After all, I do need to go to church by 12 tomorrow.

It is now 1:47 am. I will now retire. Though, if you have stuck out this entire post to this point, it makes me wonder if you were not wasting your time as well. I'm sure there were more productive things you could have been doing. Like sleeping. Or doing your homework.

It is now 1:48 am. But still, if you HAVE read this far, it flatters me. You like what I have to write that much? Really... it does flatter me.

It is now 1:49 am. Really now. I'm finished this time.