Obsessed with tattoos these days. (I think this is my mid-life). Feeling like I've been cheating myself by living by all of your rules. It could be worse...... could leave my family for the hot, young blonde girl - (theoretically)...... Could also buy that corvette. But for me its about different stuff than all that (usually). For me its about self expression.
Don't get me wrong. I love you all. But how did I let you guys decide what I was gonna look like?
I mean, there are certain places you guys belong in my life. But my head is not one of them. Time to do the things I would have done had I not been so concerned about what "people" think. (Respectfully) Its time to live my life my way; not yours. Its time to get some ink.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Intimate: a true story
Do you have the blues? She asked.
I was laying close to her in bed. A hand on her breast. (incidental contact). An arm wrapped around her hips, but Tearful. Distant.
The television was on and I was thinking about the stress of Christmas and money and the F word (previous blog-11/22). It was 5:45. There was a blue tint of light coming from the television casting itself over everything in my darkened room. She was checking her Facebook but stopped and looked at my blue face.
You know I love you, she said, like a question. I didn't really know. This is the way it had been since it happened.
(I couldn't talk).
It was unusual for her to be here now. Like this. With Me.
The way I saw it, there was the Blues and there was the dread. I had grown used to doing the blues alone. But being alone had introduced me to the dread. And there was only one way out of the dread. The blues let me feel it like a reminder that I was still alive. But the dread made me feel it like I was dead.
Your face looks blue she said.
The colors from the television changed with it's own movement. From darker blue to light blue. And then darker..., back to light. I was tired of feeling it. Worn out and tired and silently to myself I asked someone to Please help me. And the F word came to my mind again. The other one. Not the angry one.
And then just like that, underneath the revolving blue tones an answer came to me like an unusual gift.... Suddenly a door unlocked and I was permitted to Forgive.
And so I did.
And though the dread had me losing my self entirely; surprisingly it felt like I was dead for just a moment. It felt like at the beginning of things when you're dead, but suddenly coming back to life.
The television changed to a brighter screen and she looked at me curiously, not knowing my secret inside life. You're getting lighter she said. Your getting lighter and lighter. It looks like you're almost white.
I was laying close to her in bed. A hand on her breast. (incidental contact). An arm wrapped around her hips, but Tearful. Distant.
The television was on and I was thinking about the stress of Christmas and money and the F word (previous blog-11/22). It was 5:45. There was a blue tint of light coming from the television casting itself over everything in my darkened room. She was checking her Facebook but stopped and looked at my blue face.
You know I love you, she said, like a question. I didn't really know. This is the way it had been since it happened.
(I couldn't talk).
It was unusual for her to be here now. Like this. With Me.
The way I saw it, there was the Blues and there was the dread. I had grown used to doing the blues alone. But being alone had introduced me to the dread. And there was only one way out of the dread. The blues let me feel it like a reminder that I was still alive. But the dread made me feel it like I was dead.
Your face looks blue she said.
The colors from the television changed with it's own movement. From darker blue to light blue. And then darker..., back to light. I was tired of feeling it. Worn out and tired and silently to myself I asked someone to Please help me. And the F word came to my mind again. The other one. Not the angry one.
And then just like that, underneath the revolving blue tones an answer came to me like an unusual gift.... Suddenly a door unlocked and I was permitted to Forgive.
And so I did.
And though the dread had me losing my self entirely; surprisingly it felt like I was dead for just a moment. It felt like at the beginning of things when you're dead, but suddenly coming back to life.
The television changed to a brighter screen and she looked at me curiously, not knowing my secret inside life. You're getting lighter she said. Your getting lighter and lighter. It looks like you're almost white.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Learning to say the F word
What if I told you God told me to say the F word? Is that blasphemy? offensive to you? What if God wanted me to say it to blow your minds? Challenge your misconceptions of good and bad? Stretch your views of love and tolerance and acceptance? What if by saying it, it set you free from every religious tendency, or legalistic approach to expressing your life? What if it made you less hateful and more free from the justifications that keep you from being real with other people?
To be honest. I'm still uncomfortable saying it. It's just the way I was raised. But underneath the discomfort there's this rebellious spark; a mean feeling of satisfaction. A final realization that if I was ever gonna make a clear and final break with my self-righteous world of the past, I was gonna have to start using the F word.
When it comes to judging people, identifying those who are able to use the F word is the best way to separate the wheat from the chaff. And it's the forceful way out of the blues. It helps you take off the mask and stop pretending. And it feels good to say it, and quite frankly I don't give a..........
hoot,
what people think anymore.
If you're overly religious, self-righteous, I suspect you haven't made it down my post this far. And for that, I give you the F word as well. And though you're probably the hardest person to say it to, the word being so foreign to you and all, it's for your unwillingness to listen, your tendency to judge and prejudge, your inability to hear or see anything outside of yourself and your own very narrow view of the world.... that to you........ In the name of Jesus who first taught me the F word himself. To you, I wanna say, F-you. (And by F, I mean, FORGIVE).
To be honest. I'm still uncomfortable saying it. It's just the way I was raised. But underneath the discomfort there's this rebellious spark; a mean feeling of satisfaction. A final realization that if I was ever gonna make a clear and final break with my self-righteous world of the past, I was gonna have to start using the F word.
When it comes to judging people, identifying those who are able to use the F word is the best way to separate the wheat from the chaff. And it's the forceful way out of the blues. It helps you take off the mask and stop pretending. And it feels good to say it, and quite frankly I don't give a..........
hoot,
what people think anymore.
If you're overly religious, self-righteous, I suspect you haven't made it down my post this far. And for that, I give you the F word as well. And though you're probably the hardest person to say it to, the word being so foreign to you and all, it's for your unwillingness to listen, your tendency to judge and prejudge, your inability to hear or see anything outside of yourself and your own very narrow view of the world.... that to you........ In the name of Jesus who first taught me the F word himself. To you, I wanna say, F-you. (And by F, I mean, FORGIVE).
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