Why? What is up with Switchfoot? Hello Hurricane is cool, but why is Jon Foreman's voice always off beat?? The Beautiful Letdown was much, much better. The music on HH is pretty awesome...but it's like they didn't spend enough time refining the album, which isn't true since they had three years. So what is up? I think the answer is pretty simple. They've been over-thinking the whole process. Instead of letting it come naturally, they're examining it to death, and what comes out sounds acceptable and fun at best, and awkward and lame at worst. I'll listen to HH alot since it's still SF and it's not a bad album...but the songs often wander, and the words often don't match the music very well. And what ever happened to all the amazing lyrics?? SF has always had sweet lyrics. Not this time. They're decent, and jamming to them is fun, but the magic is gone. Yeah, I'm still not sure if it just takes time or if this is going to be my final opinion...I guess we'll see...  

I'm done.

Finished.

I'm beat up, shot down, cleaned out. I thought I was so great, so responsable, so right.

Well I was wrong. Dead wrong. Because of one thing.

I did it all by myself. Me. This tower of power I had built for myself. With my own two hands. I wanted to pull myself up by my own bootstraps. But I can't. My obituary might read: Caleb Weaver, tried so hard, but never quite got it right. His best was never good enough. You can't pull yourself up by your bootstraps when your broken and bleeding on the ground. I was so selfish. It was all for one person. Me. I wanted to gain a good reputation, work hard and succeed. I wanted to love people, but not because I cared about them, but so they would like me. Sure I cared unselfishly...once in awhile...for a few people. I was so strong, I could do it, muscle through the pain, and rise to the top. But it was all a lie. I stormed the gates, and they hurled me to the ground, lying among the ruin. In the end, no matter how often I rise from the dust, in the end I will have failed. And failed miserably.

I'm done.

Finished.

Only one hope gleams, like gold among the coal. A silver rope in the darkness. The key to the riddle.

Die. Die to yourself, all your hopes and dreams. All your vain hopes and ambitions. And take up the cause of another, a white standard, which bears the mark of suffering. You were ceated for a purpose, for a single goal.

"I am the vine, you are the branches. If he remains in me and I in him he will bear much fruit. Apart from Me youcan do nothing."

I'm done.

But not finished...I'm starting over.