Drought of Living Death

It's funny who you will hear from when you least expect it.

Jesus, what the Hell am I doing messing with this stuff? I'm not playing with fire...I'm sitting in gasoline and trying to strike the match.

Are you still a God of peace? Purpose? Understanding? The Infinite One who is not bound by the limitations of flesh and broken spirit?

Speak to me please.

What am I supposed to do now? What step do I take to get out of this disgusting tar?

I'm tired of feeling my heart slip out of my chest and getting caught by the rapid changing world...I can't take much more of this jerking back and forth.

Helter skelter, from the top to the bottom back to the top again...I keep falling down this path and I hate it.

I hate it.

God I hate this flesh and wish it would burn away. How can I accept failure when it burns like a cancer I want to cut out? When it sinks further into my heart twisting me into this ugly caricature that looks so much like you?

I hate this heart, I hate this mind and I hate this body.
What You made was made good but now it's ugly.
Just like you.


"That thing inside my ribs is like a pile of reptiles,
Pressed on splintered vertebrae, so cold, so claustrophobic,
Echoing in hollow fruit are orders sent with love to you,
To serve a will more shallow still than paramecium

I’ll bet your hands are beautiful,
I’m sure your head is beautiful,
But the world is ugly,
The world is ugly and it’s true,
I’ll bet your hands are beautiful,
I’m sure your head is beautiful,
But with world is ugly,
The world is ugly even after you

Invertebrates now contemplate your lavishing and humble service,
All set to hide behind the guise that this empty thing can’t hurt us,
Sensationalized for virgin eyes, it’s graphic, it’s disturbing,
And it’s worse still to think it’s real,
Degrading and unnerving"
-Showbread, "Welcome to Plainfield Tobe Hooper"

Let the bones crack as I scream out this song
when all I ever wanted was to see Your face.
The beauty I forgot.
The majesty I never knew.

I'm so tired.

It has been so many years.

How do people push on in this planet?

It is so dry, so ugly and barren. Nothing like the home we never knew we may have left.

Two years of sitting here.
Two years of feeling my flesh rot
and my soul decay.
Two years of the same song
and two years of no relief.
Am I coming full circle
or just realizing I'm trapped in Hell?

I hate this prison that I've made.
This has to die now.
Every last painful moment,
everything I have been afraid of,
every wall I have built
and ever hidden sin.

I'm full of more lies, more deceit and more hypocrisy then I could ever know...but where this Hell has burned away there is growing hope. Flourishing in the pain, there is a revival coming.

A revealing.

This skin will be peeled back and what is underneath shall be shone. No more false pretension, no more hollow words and more deceit.

Everything I ever was shall be seen and I'll stand here naked, letting the flaws of my life be revealed. I can't hid from myself forever...because the cracks and here and are growing by the second.

There is no end.

There has never been an end.

Just a transition from this point, this life to the next.

Beauty redefined in the face of light