sometimes when i pray, i get depressed. it's not an overwhelming, bawl-your-eyes-out kind of depression. nor is it a deep and numbing emptiness. it's more of just a realization of my insufficiency, hypocrisy and plain messed-up-ness. i'm hard on myself, i know. you need only play tennis with me to see that i expect much from myself. but i can't help it. i see where i am; i see where i think i should be; i see the huge discrepancy; i get depressed.



it's a tag-team, caged deathmatch. pride and senseless guilt battling Grace and genuine humility. i know who'll win... but the process is long and painful-- suplexes, folding chairs and all.

Outside these city walls, alone with what I've known

Like a criminal who sly-thieves joy from his own home



Some just line says I should die by fire, so I'm cutting up the kindling

And the kerosene I cry



Take these suicidal stones from my hand

Suicidal Stones from my hand

Suicidal Stones from my hand



Caught in the actor on regret's stage

Soliloquy without sympathy is my penance paid



Built on quicksand too low to see the ground

Sniveling in a Job-en cry as I look down



Take these suicidal stones from my hand

Suicidal Stones from my hand

Suicidal Stones from my hand



-- from "Suicidal Stones" by Caedmon's Call