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success. it's measurable isn't it? succesful bands, directors, cinematographers, laywers, doctors, academics, scientists, presidents, hawkers, mothers, fathers..
but how many of us are stuck at the loosing end of the stick? do we merely just exist, or do we matter? it's romantic to believe we matter. in fact, i think it's essential that we know or feel that we matter, to something, someone, some cause, somewhere.
i think about tomorrow. about that apartment i'll get with a workstation and a dog for a friend. to come out and serve in the church, to gig, to document and make digital canvases. i won't need much, but i'll need you. some wine, some song, a simple kind of life but enough extravagence for comfort.
but yet all these things fade away,
what i really want, is for the Lord to tell me everything's going to be alright, that everything has it's purpose and that his dreams are bigger than my nightmares.
just because you feel it
doesn't mean it's there
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