Let it Rain

I have been meaning to write for a while now. Its been hard though, this week has sort have been a big one, a messy one. A strange one. I have been thinking a lot, but every time I go to write nothing comes out. I have lost my voice. Again.
I don't like this feeling, not being able to write freely. I don't like not being able to put emotions into words or paint a picture with my voice. Its too eerily familiar.
This past week every time I have tried to write something, the words haven't made since on the page. They were too disjointed or mangled. They didn't make sense.
I guess thats how I sort of feel right now. Disjointed, mangled, like I can't make sense. Its how I feel about a lot of things I suppose.
One night, late, after the club had closed, my friends and I sat on a park bench and talked about the world. Or, they talked, I fell asleep. I remember hearing them talk about how fucked up the world is and what it would take to change it. Then this homeless guy came along and started talking to us. I couldn't help but think what perfect timing it was for him to approach us. He was an appropriate example of the fucked up world that we live in. He ended up giving us a blanket because he could see that we were cold. The irony of a homeless man giving us a blanket made me want to throw up. It also could have been all the alcohol that I drank earlier that night, but I am pretty sure it was tragedy of the irony of the situation. It got to a point in the conversation where we asked him why he was alone, and he sat down in a heap on top of his bundle containing all of his belongings and started to cry.
He started talking about God and how God's love keeps him going. He made me question my own standpoint on God, since I have been questioning it for a while now. Mostly because of a lot of fucked up shit I have been through. Like if he truly exists then where the hell was he when I needed him? Where was he when I asked for his help, when I needed a sign that it was going to be alright? I feel like a preacher would tell me that he wanted me to find the strength within myself to prevail, to carry on. I could handle it if I really gave it everything I had inside me. At my church they always said to find the strength of God within yourself, or may God's strength be with you, something like that. But I think that it is because of this inner strength that I question his existence. And the origin of this strength was myself, not God. If I had not found this strength, I would be dead by now. So, if there is a God I would really like to ask him something "What the FUCK was that for?" And do not tell me to find the answer within myself, I'm done with that shit.
But there was this homeless guy, who has probably been through more shit than I have and he has all the faith in the world. I don't get how he still believes. I don't understand how he can get out of bed everyday knowing what lies ahead. Solitude, discrimination, shit. I couldn't really figure him out either, if his words were truly genuine. I would like to believe that they were. It would make the fucked-up-ness of this world more bearable I suppose. But I don't know, I don't know what he was really all about. But I am glad that we met him, and I am grateful for the way he makes me think.
So I am thinking that this experience, among other things, has affected my ability to write anything worth reading, because I don't know the answers to the things that this made me think about. I don't know why I had to go through the shit that I did, why God is never around, if this guy was for real, is my life what I want it to be, or if I'm going in the right direction. These questions are all that I have been able to think about for the past couple of days. They flow through my head like one of those rain sticks that you find at the discovery channel store. You turn it to one side and listen to it rain, like looking at something from one perspective. Then flip it over, look at it another way and let the thoughts drip through your head. Letting the raindrops seep into the cracks, discovering thoughts you had never thought of before. So, here I am. Looking for some answers in the rain inside my head. Right now its like a hurricane.