Today... started out rough.
For the last month or so, I've been going to English Mass at eight in the morning.
At first, I attended so my sister wouldn't be alone... but now, it's something I enjoy. It puts me at ease. I can't explain it beyond that. It's just like it used to be. It allows me to be wrapped in my solitude... my quiet, meditating solitude.
I like quiet solitude.
ANYWAY.
I went to mass alone.
Like a dog, my ear perked the moment I heard the first reading.
In all my years, I had never paid attention to that reading... until today.
It was from the seventh chapter of Job.
This line made me sit completely frozen:
"So I have been assigned months of misery, and troubled nights have been allotted to me."
Whoa... whoa...
I pulled up a missal and continued to read.
"My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle;
they come to an end without hope.
Remember that life is like the wind;
I shall not see happiness again."
I almost cried.
Bingo.
I decided to read the whole thing once I returned home.
Deep. And painful.
"My own utterance I will not restrain;
I will speak in the anguish of my spirit;
I will complain in the bitterness of my soul."
Yes. Yes.
When I say, “My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint,”
Then you frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions,
So that I should prefer strangulation and death rather than my existence.
I waste away: I will not live forever;
let me alone, for my days are but a breath.
What are human beings, that you make much of them, or pay them any heed?
You observe them every morning
and try them at every moment!
How long before you look away from me,
and let me alone till I swallow my spit?
If I sin, what do I do to you,
O watcher of mortals?
Why have you made me your target?
Why should I be a burden for you?
Why do you not pardon my offense, or take away my guilt?
For soon I shall lie down in the dust;
and should you seek me I shall be gone."
Rocked. My. World.
However, while I did identify with this reading FAR too much, instead of feeling happy over not being alone in my desperation... my sadness abruptly attacked me.
Right there, as I searched the internet, feeling bummed, I noted my sister had quoted "He's Just Not That Into You." I nearly lost it... especially since it took a swing at the "love" portion of my soul (the bible verses hurt my entire being, not my romance department...):
"No matter how powerful and real your feelings may be for someone, if that person cannot fully and honestly return them and therefore actively love you back, these feelings mean nothing.”
FUCK, MAN! WHAT THE HELL?! Does February 5th WANT to see me cry?
But suddenly, everything was all right with the world...
I was treated to a breakfast birthday party... where I had wonderfully delicious pancakes AND numerous variations of french toast... and bacon-infused scrambled eggs... and then this fucking beauty to top it all off:
All celebrating my sweet aunt's birthday (and secretly, I kinda did it for Cristiano Ronaldo... but shhh).
And so... the smile returned to my face... and my brain filed the quotes in the "cherished" section.
For the last month or so, I've been going to English Mass at eight in the morning.
At first, I attended so my sister wouldn't be alone... but now, it's something I enjoy. It puts me at ease. I can't explain it beyond that. It's just like it used to be. It allows me to be wrapped in my solitude... my quiet, meditating solitude.
I like quiet solitude.
ANYWAY.
I went to mass alone.
Like a dog, my ear perked the moment I heard the first reading.
In all my years, I had never paid attention to that reading... until today.
It was from the seventh chapter of Job.
This line made me sit completely frozen:
"So I have been assigned months of misery, and troubled nights have been allotted to me."
Whoa... whoa...
I pulled up a missal and continued to read.
"My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle;
they come to an end without hope.
Remember that life is like the wind;
I shall not see happiness again."
I almost cried.
Bingo.
I decided to read the whole thing once I returned home.
Deep. And painful.
"My own utterance I will not restrain;
I will speak in the anguish of my spirit;
I will complain in the bitterness of my soul."
Yes. Yes.
When I say, “My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint,”
Then you frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions,
So that I should prefer strangulation and death rather than my existence.
I waste away: I will not live forever;
let me alone, for my days are but a breath.
What are human beings, that you make much of them, or pay them any heed?
You observe them every morning
and try them at every moment!
How long before you look away from me,
and let me alone till I swallow my spit?
If I sin, what do I do to you,
O watcher of mortals?
Why have you made me your target?
Why should I be a burden for you?
Why do you not pardon my offense, or take away my guilt?
For soon I shall lie down in the dust;
and should you seek me I shall be gone."
Rocked. My. World.
However, while I did identify with this reading FAR too much, instead of feeling happy over not being alone in my desperation... my sadness abruptly attacked me.
Right there, as I searched the internet, feeling bummed, I noted my sister had quoted "He's Just Not That Into You." I nearly lost it... especially since it took a swing at the "love" portion of my soul (the bible verses hurt my entire being, not my romance department...):
"No matter how powerful and real your feelings may be for someone, if that person cannot fully and honestly return them and therefore actively love you back, these feelings mean nothing.”
FUCK, MAN! WHAT THE HELL?! Does February 5th WANT to see me cry?
But suddenly, everything was all right with the world...
I was treated to a breakfast birthday party... where I had wonderfully delicious pancakes AND numerous variations of french toast... and bacon-infused scrambled eggs... and then this fucking beauty to top it all off:
 |
| Chocolate mousse, flan, cheesecake, and that bottom layer? TRES LECHES! Ufff! The mere memory makes me salivate. |
And so... the smile returned to my face... and my brain filed the quotes in the "cherished" section.
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