States

Sometimes the focus is so much on the self that we are scrambling to fix ourselves with everything we have and we step on so many people along the way. We are so fixed on our brokenness that we are stuck in yesterdays problems that when we realize the problems that were building up today, today has ceased, and tomorrow is yesterday and into last year.

Our eyes are so far focused backwards that we are running into the things we don't see as we still walk forwards, our feet not able to hold the capability of turning around and turning back time. We keep watching the film that has been of our lives, and watch and watch and watch to see if we did something different in our past, to see if the next viewing of our tragic tale has a different story, but the film remains unchanged because it has already passed, and we're wishing for a different story, but we can't quite change was has been.

Our eyes seem to focus on the wrong things as we miss the story as it is happening. We miss out on participating on our own lives, making terrible mistakes because we want to feel loved by all the people around us, and to feel acknowledged and wanted and worthy, when really, all along, we want to acknowledge our Father above, but we can't because we can accept human love so much more than we can even begin to accept the knowledge that we truly are loved by our Heavenly Father.

We want to see, but we can't because our past is all too colorful or dull to leave it behind us, where it belongs. Our future is always another story, and is always a guessing game at fiction, and is, quite possibly, another large waste of our time. Our focus seems to be very limited to what we see in these present moments, and in this constant moment that we are stuck in. We seem to never quite know what to do with it, or how to use this clicking that goes on so passionately in front of our true eyes. We live in our world of thoughts. Where are our thoughts lined out? Upon the railroad tracks, we can see in front of us, and behind us, but miss our scenery, and miss the people, and miss the ride we are riding, and the cotton candy we are tasting because our hearts are fixed on dead things.

A state of death, when all we ever really wanted was life.
Staring in the bitter glass can become a waste of time.