Nice, Jenelle, nice.

Hey hi, hello. Blogger. Blogger, weird.
It is Saturday. My weekends have been dull lately. Because I work. I love to work. But I also love to hang out with friends. And people know that I work weekends, so they don't invite me to do things. At least I hope they know I work weekends and that's why they don't invite me?
Whatever. It's cool.
I'm not one to speak out about how I wish to avoid conforming. People with such opinions irritate me. Because we all conform in one or more areas of our life. We all live in the same world, and lets face it, society has our souls in a vice and every time we turn on the television, we're giving it more room to influence us.
With all that said (hah) my lack of conformation (if that is the right word to use) is that of which finances are involved. And voting and the whole game life plays with stocks, and gas prices, and taxes. Who invented that bullshit anyways?
Why are we measured by our wallets and physical stature? Who the fuck cares.
What does it take to sculpt people to be someone more than just existing? Existing is not living, and if you're not living, you might as well be dead. Nice, Jenelle, nice.
And there's where I fall in line. I am just existing. I am measuring myself by my wallet. Which currently has $2 in it. My physical appearance is growing more and more important to me. And guess what? So does everyone else's. Nice, Jenelle, nice.
But that's not me. No, not at all. So why do I feel like I HAVE to shift myself into the typical American role of life? My hair must be perfect and my money has to be in order.
You know what I want?
I want to shave my head, burn my car, quit my job, and put my hands on those in need and pray without ceasing.
Pray without ceasing.
But I am caught up in a rouge, feeling forced to be what I am. I am hating what I am.
And it's not a BIG deal. It's just a deal. A deal that I've been tricked into making. So eff me for that.
Lord God,
I keep praying for change. I have become that lazy Christian that prays for things, but won't try for things.
I have excuses that could convince the highest of authorities. But I can't fool myself. Or You, for that matter.
I just don't know how to put THE right foot forward and march...

Dress shopping with brothers fiance.