Saturday, May 9, 2009

Worry, worry, worry.

Hackers and crackers with WOW, what next?

Worry, worry, worry.

Crazed unfriendliness towards those I love?

Unacceptable.
Not sure if this will help but go to itunes and download Brave Saint Saturn's album "The Light of All Things Hoped For", put it on something portable, get some headphones and lay down with it.

Thinking about...and prayer...hope...peace...and love...something more than just mere sentiment but genuine...beyond human's lack of care and inability to understand...but the peace beyond understanding...to you in ways only you can understand.

As always...muse...I stand ready for a transmission...a reception of some sort...to know the work is heading in the right way...I need your grace and guidance for this to take off and land.

The darkness overwhelms...threatens to drown...but the darkness cannot perceive the Light and is overwhelmed at the thought of the divine reaching beyond the legislation to humans...the part spirit and part animal mixtures that get more wrong than right...but that love still prevails...and reaches into the soul...and brings one soul to another...no matter the miles, the pain or the fear.

Love wins.
I wish I could find a video of the song "The Sky - Alpha" by Showbread.

That would possibly work.
Even though words are lacking in words to help...I don't hate your life.
Away to the ceremony of graduates I must go!
Feeling my soul burst into flames at there mere thought of your whispery inspiration...I have to ask...why dear muse have you been so silent as of late?

See the large stack of things to do?
My bad health?
Lack of income?

I'm trying to meet you in the middle here but if you don't get with the sprinkling of the magical muse dust I'm going to come in there and get it.

I say that with sincere love of course.
I hate being so paranoid about oversleeping that I do not sleep at all...*sigh*...
Progress has been elusive...but the conversation...outside...and in has been productive in its own ways...leading to conclusions...creating and cross synapses that have only dreamed of being fired and opening pathways of thought into metaphors and unexpected conclusions.

Five AM though...what a time for phone calls.

Prayer and sentiment mixed with hope...directed to those sick and ailing...in the body, mind and soul...so much more yet so much less...things are gathering, being blown and directed in ways most unexpected.

What is this hope?
This light daring to pierce darkest night?

Unspoken words...acknowledge and given via train of thought to those in most of need...suffocating on the lack of consideration and love...not knowing how dearly beloved you are in both thought and action. Beloved, muse and all.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

"The Goat" - Showbread

For A Smile...

...make sure to watch in order.




Prayer and warm thoughts.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Having a soul on fire with no logical way to stop the fire...the pain at times is odd.
When it rains it pours...when you don't sleep you don't dream and when you don't get a phone call at 5AM you can always wait for the next day...you know?
Interesting...that was amazing.
Apologies are unneeded, existentialism is needed...continue on...continue on...
Yikes...I should always check and read first. >_<

Sorry.

Oh well...no sleep.

Hope it gets better soon...

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Here I go...once again...*cue White Snake song*

"Staring at the Sun" - U2

Monday, May 4, 2009

I miss you.

Pain is there too.
Can't breath so well...pain...so...much.
There is a certain degree of madness that is becoming evident as the day progresses...thoughts...feelings...confusion.

An answer is asked for...definitions too...and it is something I lack.

I don't know how to give justification or explanation for any of this...it is.

Truth and love...all relevant and beautiful despite the pain that does manifest.

How?
Why?
Where?

Where is this all going?
What is to come of it all?
Finding Nineveh...such an odd journey.

Tired Bones and Weary Souls

Why does my body have to scream in agony every time I try to get out of bed? What do I have to hurt? What point will this serve?

Why...why do you never leave me when I forsake You?

How do you love such a broken creation...I am so tired, so broken and God so ashamed. I wish I could pull up into myself and hide from the dread Your beauty instills into my soul. I see your love, your compassion and God your grace...they terrify me and shake me to my core.

To realize my limitations and how self obsessed...and how broken.

Where does it end?

But this love, how can it begin when everything feels so run down, so broken and so impossible?

Redundancy and Lies

Here I,
Here I am.
Every phrase and every word
and every processed
spiritual cliche
making me retch
is buried deep within my soul.
I wrote the book
and killed hope with my savior.

Moment,
ever lasting moment.
Regards to all
the truth
and screams ripping flesh
as throats collapse
and veins explode
from the falling wrath
of one lost
and so bitter.

Look in your mirror
and see the world you made
and just how bitter
and ugly you are.

Jesus,
you see this broken machine
these lies across the world
broken and bloody as a cancer.
You see the facade I've lived
while trying to kill for me.
You have seen the blood I spilled
all in the pursuit of my ego.

Jesus,
you see the hole in my soul
and the ugly insects slithering inside
as I scream for help
all the time dragging my feet so I can wait.
You've seen every last tear I've shed
and you have felt every nail,
every rusty nail I have driven into your wrist
while screaming my will be done.

You've seen me kill for my own gain
and only care for me.

Lamb, mild and meek.
Creator and redeemer.
The Holy one who holds the stars
and knit my soul together.
How do you love such imperfection?
How do you show any grace to such failure?

How can you love the bastards
and all of us who plotted against You?
Love for the liars, the thieves,
the selfish, the slothful,
the judges, the sinners,
the bastards, the forgotten,
the hated and forsaken.
We have nothing left
but the venom on our tongues
and our ability to devour the weak.
Every poisonous word
and Lord I am here.
Opportunistic mercenary I am.

God my soul burns in pain
free us from this agony.
From this broken shell.
To home,
to the end,
to the resolution
and to the every new day
beginning joy of your love.

Take this fear, these lies
and my dying breaths,
take them and give them life
set them free to fly
and let them fly
to the future known only by You.

Freedom from this dying shell.
Oh God, please.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

It has to be worth more then the sum parts...or this all is utterly pointless...worthless...no meaning, no being...nothing worth existing for.

God it hurts.