"And the sun in the sky makes a shadow of you and I
Stretching out as the sun sinks in the sea
I'm hanging on by my thumbs
I'm ready for whatever comes
Love rescue me

Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow
Yet I will fear no evil
I have cursed they rod and staff
They no longer comfort me
Love rescue me

I've conquered my past
The future is here at last
I stand at the entrance
To a new world I can see
The ruins to the right of me
Will soon have lost sight of me
Love rescue me"

Oie.

Just...yeah...

There has to be a means by which to utilize my ongoing migraines as a fuel source.

If that is possible then I think I have just found a way to a brighter, happier non fossil fuel future.

Clean reliable migraine energy now with 73% more snark.

Woo.

"The farther I fall I'm beside you
as lost as I get I will find you
the deeper the wound I'm inside you
for ever and ever I'm a part of

You and me
we're in this together now
none of them can stop us now
we will make it through somehow
you and me
if the world should break in two
until the very end of me
until the very end of you

All that we were is gone we have to hold on
when all our hope is gone we have to hold on
all that we were is gone but we can hold on

You and me
we're in this together now
none of them can stop us now
we will make it through somehow
you and me
even after everything
you're the queen and I'm the king
nothing else means anything"

Reflecting on Recollection Having Gone Wild for some Odd Five Years Plus

Today.

Five years ago.

Give or take a few days.

Was my first attempt at working on my masters, doing seminary work up in Birmingham.

God that was such a miserable experience.
Anxiety.
Depression.
A lot of freaking strangers.
Quite a number of panic attacks.
Which was absolutely freaking pathetic.
Sitting in the parking lot of the church and trying not to throw up while shaking violently.

Years later I am still not even remotely sure what all of my triggers for that are...and I think I might have worked some of the self hate off...but really...

In ways I still struggle with not freaking out anytime I must be around large groups of strangers.

Or feeling I'm being watched.

Or judged.

It has to do with large groups of strangers and/or Christians.

I still can't believe all the pain I have caused because of my indecision, my fears and the need I have to run around and run away every time things seem too much.

I could just beat myself mercilessly.

Dance over my own pain.

But what good is just self destruction?

So strange.
I've had God whispering me to my whole life about how I am loved, I am wanted, I am beautiful, I am desired, I am wanted and that there is a place for me...but my selfish need for control...to beat myself bloody and scream at the top of my lungs until I am hoarse...until I am exhausted and in tears...how much I hate me, how much I hate you...how much I hate You for forgiving me.

Some heavy, dark, sometimes silly, sometimes nonsense and so often just a reminder that I am a tired, broken and weak child who is playing at living a life.

A quarter of a century old and I am still chasing after some of these same old ghosts.

Funny thing, how missing something...or never having had something can make a gap, this hole in you...that everything falls through...and is just pitch as night.

It's...so weird to talk to the few people I can't lie to.
If anything I would rather just run than ever tell them how bad things can be.
It's not that I do not trust them.
The weakness...and the fear...the...

All of those words.
Painful.
Unpleasant.
So much unseen.
Unknown.
I wish it could be easier.
And watch your smile,
see you across this distance
and know,
just know the dawn would come.
Baptized in love,
carried by these wings of grace.
Hope.
Hope.
Bursting from within,
pulsing inside my chest
and burning within my veins,
Love never letting me go
and carrying me
through the pain.

Murp.

So many thoughts and so many words spun and crafted in this dark.
Fevers, chills, shaking and confusion at what may yet be...

Goodness, wonder, hope and need to be Yours.
Never knowing but hoping
and being carried.

"ienai itami kanashimi de kizu tsuita kimi yo
kesenai kako mo seoi atte ikou ikiru koto wo nage dasanai de

tsunaida kimi no te wo

itsuka ushinatte shimau no kana
usurete iku egao to kimi wo mamoritai kara
hibiku boku wo yobu koe sae kare
toki ni sou kaze ni kaki kesaretatte
kimi wo mitsuke dasu

ienai itami kanashimi de kizu tsuita kimi
mou waraenai nante hito girai nante kotoba sou iwanai de
mienai mirai ni okoru koto subete ni imi ga aru kara
ima wa sono mama de ii kitto kizukeru toki ga kuru daro"

Fount of Eternal Confusion

Stuff never really seems to balance out around me.
I tend to either be stressed out and busy.
Or stressed out and nothing to do.
Sometimes I am off gallivanting on some metaphysical higher plane and return to find out that my body went into 'standby' which means collapsing on the floor from stressed and curling up into a ball while whimpering that "In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." ...or maybe its "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."

Bah.
Point being is that when it rains it floods.
And it's always flooding in this neighborhood.

I've been approached to work on not one but TWO seperate television projects.
One is in directing/production on a tv pilot.
The other is writing and possibly helping to direct a(n) episode(s) of a TV series being picked up by Christian TV Networks.

I never thought I would actually write anything much less direct TV.

And I can blame this on 'Ghetto Zorro'.
Which deserves to be put up somewhere here on the net where it can't be taken down by hyper Nazi copyright youtube lawyers.

Speaking of writing...my, unbelievably, fifth NANOWRIMO starts in a few months...I'll be writing my fifth novel...and I started this when I was twenty-one, fresh out of university and free falling into a pit of depression and ill health...and now I am twenty-five and free falling into a puddle of depression and ill health...and I have some stubborn people who insist on pulling me out.

So if things are as I understand them the writing based projects coming up:

-Directing pilot.
-Helping write pilot, other episodes and directing one.
-Rough draft of Fifth novel.
-I've started organizing all of my novel/story notes and trying to make sense of my novels to see if this next one is going to be in the overall series or something new.
-As always adding to and editing my poetry.
-I'm going to be writing my Master thesis in the spring.
-I have been asked to do voice over work for an audio play.
-Looking at starting a video review series with my best friend.

With all of these projects I am going to be happy if I make enough money to at least buy a taco.

That is a worthy goal...right?
So many things...yet at times I feel so distant and unsure.
I suppose that is life.
I never knew what to pray for...and yet here you are.
In my life, such vivid reality I never knew could be.

Life isn't just a downward spiral of decay.
Life and death.
Pain and progress.
But sometimes...sometimes the rain stops.
The rainbow does shine.
And the dreams you dare to dream do come true.

Words really are so much more difficult to gather and utilize than they used to be...such is life I suppose...

Hrmph...

Twenty-Five-Thousand hits in five years?

Five thousand hits a year?

That is...so...nutty.

Squawk, Squawk and Gambling

The thing that has no cease to haunt me for well over a decade is the fact I sill do not know if I was and am doing ministry for God...or for this self indulgent egomaniac and self-promoted bastard child of Christendom.



Yes it matters.
No good deed goes unpunished.
No attempt at helping and serving can be properly rewarded until things come full circle and the pain is restored.

Who I am would not be recognizable for who I was.
The worsening health, the limp, the dark circles, the snarky and sardonic humor...still the only true redeemable aspect is that one thing that has never had ANYTHING to do with me...

Christ love.
Christ grace.
Chasing after the wayward children just so when they turn around they can fall into the arms of the Lover.

And who am I?
Reflections in the dark,
room lit by a screen and sun struggling to break free.

I'm so weary.
So tired.
I'm cynical with stripes of hope,
begging that if the pain cannot be lifted
that at least a hand to hold
and if there is no hand hold,
to at least touch me with grace
so that something good can come of this bile.

"A Roman Catholic in Southern Baptist’s Clothing”

"The Paradoxical Commandments" by Kent M. Keith

"People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered. Love them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway.
The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow. Be good anyway.
Honesty and frankness will make you vulnerable. Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds. Think big anyway.
People favor underdogs, but follow only top dogs. Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway.
People need help, but may attack you if you do help them. Help them anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and you'll get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you have anyway."

Cynicism is so easy...such a lazy means of being.
The urge to rude and hide grows...clings and burrows to my soul.
New...old...nothing and everything.

So much to miss.
Ache to see.
Feel the sun again,
and know the world will be renewed.

Sheer hilarity of life never ends.
However...I am so blessed at the same time.
Some wonders are afoot...

I really need to remember to celebrate on the 20th...one of the best days of my life...with no hyperbole.

Freedom never came for free.
And certainly that was a miracle I didn't know I was looking for.

...what an arguably sad waste of human genetic material.
And for once this isn't a veiled self focused attack concerning how much disdain I hold for myself...

It...is...just people.
And sadness.

There isn't one person...one thing, life is more...more confusing and less sense making...and I feel like...

It will all be washed away by the ebbs and flows of time.
A truer horror show never has been known.

Wow.
Humanity sucks.
I really should work on that...

Meek Meanings

Oh the things I thought...the words that were said.
So silly.
So silly.
All in passing and all is fading.
All is so silly, so fleeting.
Words cast about in new light,
burning as it were
losing all that meaning.
Acid etched in the mind,
on the soul
and such belligerent numb feelings.

...Ann?

o_O

Scattered Lights

The anger and bitterness...
It's tangible.
The taste is in my mouth.
I'm not sure what happened.
Maybe it just is.

Black and white
while wrapped in gray,
I stand here
looking out to sea,
wandering
just when,
when I might might
look and see,
find You standing here
alongside me.

Whispers of a Muse
from across the channels of life
and I miss you.

More than words,
sentiment or feelings
just the sad truth
of a wanderer who has broken down.

Pretending to be
the sort of man
I could never be,
sitting and looking out.

It's a new day,
new sunrise
and soon to fall.

New way,
new life
and hopes.

It's not about finishing order.
It's about survival.

Humanity is such a sad waste of life and oxygen...

Only

Hemph.

Not sure why...or how...or even a what...

The harder I try to fit in...really the less I do.
The more the reason why I see I just don't belong.
More and more.
A quarter of a century into this...train wreck lovingly called life...
I just don't have it in me to play...

I'm not really sure who, what, when, why...any of it, any of it...

Things are so superficial with so many people.
Maybe it's been the reclusive nature of the summer...but the more I'm around people, the worst I feel...the more alien...the more dirt that seems to flow through my veins, sticking like mud.

I've got nothing and have nothing to really offer or give...
Just these jaded and skewed views.
That may or may not be...or not...

Honestly...that is even a part of it.
Honesty.
Regression.
Regret.

If only it was a simple as brushing things past and moving on.
There are somethings...others...
Nothing?
Relative.
Oh if only...

Only this, only that
and every shade
the truth could be colored in
and framed for all to see.

Truth ever so subjective
and brought under the whims
of the poison
via the vox populi,
a vis-à-vis of the soul
just like you imagined.

It's all fiction
and some lies
mixed with feel goodness.
Right?

I can't take this drink
or dance to this song,
all I want is the dark
and silence to be wrapped in.

Everything has become so spread out
and feeling so flawed,
infected by imperfections
and cancers.

Only this,
only that
and every way you twist the truth
to help you swallow it.

Shame and pain
and maybe just a sprinkle of powder
or whatever venom
it is you draw with.

Goodnight, Farewell Regression

I wouldn't know what to do with so much hope if it wasn't delivered while I wasn't looking.

So many of my fears, uncertainties and broken memories...come back from this lack of trust.

I run, try to run from myself...and so many thing suffer.
I cause so much indecisive pain because of fear...

Curious.
And sad.

So much,
so little
and time is passing...fading from sight.

Even the pain can look beautiful
when seen from perspective
and time enough to heal.

I never thought I would grow weary of words for their own sake.

From Here to There, Eternity's Breadth During a Breath

I've got nothing
and all busy being a nobody.
Life happens while looking the other way
and falls together while I consider.

Beauty in the moment,
passing and fading
as much as you are you.

Reminding, the fall and pain.
What is the point of such,
silly embracing of pain and sin?

The hands shake, break and fall apart,
past here and there
with the awaking thoughts
and dawn of horror.

Who am I?
Why should my concerns carry weight?

Being, trying, feeling, reminding,
falling, sinning, collapsing,
...all it's own sin.

Such worry for its own sake.
Sin running circles around itself
and reminding life for its own sake.

Life isn't grace to be wasted,
drank away
and spat on by my sins.

Grace, beauty in its ability to hunt,
follow and never leave me alone.
Beauty wanting and willing to chase
no matter the extent of my stupidity.

I want to scream,
roar in pain
and make this about me.
A drama
and stage play
all revolving around,
spinning about me.