Subject line: burglars.


athens, georgia.

There are a thousand things I should be doing right now, but I can’t slow my mind down enough to do any of them.

There’s this line from the movie A Bug’s Life where they’re talking about grasshoppers: “They come. They eat. They leave. They come. They eat. They leave.”

I think this phrase is true of all of the tragedies of life. The tragedies come. They take. And they leave; sometimes they wipe you clean in the process. In the past month there have been more tragedies than I can count. Bad things come in threes and I’ve lost count of what multiple I’m on. Dramatic, right? What I’m trying to say is that I’ve become quite adept at dealing with these tragedies. I’ve become accustomed to them breaking down the walls of me and clearing out every valuable in sight. Their thievery is familiar now. I might as well be holding my door open for tragedy and saying “The one that came yesterday took almost everything; there might be something left for you in the back.” I feel so bare. Drained. Tired. We’re all just tired I think.

All of this right before finals. I’m looking up at God and going “Really? You think I can handle this right now?” And He says back to me “No. No. I don’t.”
”Then why?”
”Because I can handle it. “

Oh. Yeah. Yeah, he can handle it.

There’s one good thing hidden in what I said about tragedies: They wipe you clean. Sometimes we need to be wiped clean I think. Drunk from until we’re bone dry. So that something better may be poured back in.