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