7-7-07

New moleskine after my first and very near-full one was stolen. Make a note. Always keep doors to truck locked. You never know who might want to steal a bag full of library books, school notes, and gum wrappers. I hope whoever took it is enjoying the musings of Robert Roberts on life in Britain's classic slum, as well as the thoughts and little snippets of dialogue and stories by yours truly.

Talking to Jacob today, I was struck with just how much I love myself more than I love others. I'd rather sit in my room and watch movies rather then engage others. It's been this way for a while. My prayer life sucks. My thought life sucks even harder. I give in to the tiniest lustful thought, eager for immediate, momentary pleasure, and I forget-or don't choose to acknowledge-the amazing blessings God has put in my life these past few years. Few months. Few weeks. Both bands are plugging along. I start work on a feature independent film in a week and I have friends and family whom I love and who love me and who I'm sure act with bewilderment at my rough words and sulky demeanor. How am I lifting them up, encouraging them, weeping with them, giving a shit about them? My sinful heart teels me that my comfort comes first, I'm secure in my stalwart, quiet, brooding self. I'm ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.