The Epilogue of A Fool

I will sit with ease and comfort tonight while someone out there will freeze.

I will have my fill and drink all that I need as well.

Someone will thirst.

Someone will hunger.

I will live complacently and pass over my Bible tonight....

Someone will cry out for truth.

Someone will DIE for truth.

Someone will fight for just one page......

Of

TRUTH.

Maybe, tomorrow I'll wake up.

I'm pointing the finger right back at.......me.

Inside this cranium is more than just a brain.

Thoughts zoom around like excited jet planes.

Sometimes my heart tries to tell my logic what to do.

Quite often I choke my heart's silly ideas to death.

Protection.

How can I know if it was really protection or just fear?

Or was it something caused by pain?

I have learned that sometimes things are really not what they seem, because our feelings cloud our judgement and our feelings, when hurt, tend to change the way we look at people.

Suddenly they seem so different and foreign to us, they're the ones with the problem, it's their fault.

My pain is not dictated by me, it's what they did to me.

MY PAIN.

MY WOUNDS.

I think we all tend to want to blame others for how we feel.

Instead of taking what others say at face value, which is quite often the truth, we try to nit pick it apart and read into it way farther than we should.

Thus causing us to have our feelings hurt even more, simply because we didn't get our own way.

And instead of keeping our business to ourselves, we open our death traps and yap to each other about the things we are assuming are true.

When in reality, we're fabricating lies to help justify our feelings, ending in an unmerciful pit of gossip quicksand.

This hurts people, taints reputations, and makes you look like a fool.

Whether it be break ups, misunderstandings, or things that maybe you did, there is always a way to let yourself heal without hurting more than you should.

First step: Stop pointing fingers and assuming things.

Step two: Take what they said at face value, stop assuming that there is more to it than what they told you. Sometimes they're actually telling the truth.

Step three: Actually let yourself heal.

Step four: Face your fears and insecurities.

Step five: Forgive those who have hurt you.

Step six: Examine your motives.

Step seven: Give the benefit of the doubt.

Step eight: Let yourself have the possibility of fault. Not saying blame yourself for something that was NOT your fault, but when it actually was your fault, step up and take responsibility.

Step nine: Honesty. Be honest with yourself, with God, and towards the one who you hurt or hurt you.

Step ten: ABOVE ALL OF THESE THINGS: Actually give it to God. Don't self medicate, don't self harm, don't smoke, don't drink, don't do anything that involves stupid and I mean STUPID temporary fixes.

Get on your knees and send some knee mail to the one who truly loves you no matter how pathetic you can be.

God's the only one who isn't pointing fingers or shutting you out.

So stop playing the victim when the things that happen, are simply a part of life.

²⁸ “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. ²⁹ Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰ For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Matthew 11:28

Actually do it.

I dare you.

Slithering Owls

Let's sit around and pick apart the very things that make us real.

Let's rip apart our hearts.

Let's sit around and throw around our thoughts and cheap feelings.

We'll draw lines into the simple skin of empty promises.

We'll strip down what's left of the failures in our lives and simply run in scattered patterns around the sinking shore.

We'll throw our hands up and say, "We've done it again! Change is only a weasel."

I have come to find that these fine lines that I paint along the outer lands of reality are askew on my easel.

My wings are full of wholes and my sails are broken feathers.

Up is down and black is white, obviously blue.

There is no comforting place inside the pit of glory.

Your grass isn't greener because your grass is real.

We wander around with our soggy waffles and wonder where we went wrong.

To fat to open our eyes and see the grimacing python.

Waiting.

Foolishly you dance into the grip of slithering seduction.

And you wonder why it's becoming so hard to breathe.

You let in the very things that you swore you would never love.

Look at you trying to have your ice and drink it too.

Do you think the sickness gives a hoot if you make it or not?

You're just another casualty in it's lust for control.

How sickening it must be to know all the answers, but never get it right.

What a fine kettle of fish....

If I were a tall glass of water, it would be easy for him to drink me down, without challenge.

Oh, but I am more comparative to a hot tea.

Full of flavor, hard to consume at first, but with time and patience, I am quite enjoyable and I go down more refreshing than a simple sip of plain water.

Added spice and delight that will keep you... warm through the night.

So why doesn't he just let me steep, just a bit more?



In good time the kettle will whistle, reminding us of the time spent waiting.

Then we will know that the water is ready.

Like the leaves of tea, I swim around gracefully, bewitching you as you stare.

You lower your face to gently breathe in the aroma.

How is it that you feel so alive?

Am I more of a delight than you expected?

And you thought you could change my flavor by adding more sugar.

You'll find that I am much more enjoyable just the way I am.

I'll never change for you.

Awe, yes, I am stubborn.

Almost as black as the mug you hold so tightly.

I am unfamiliar, a bit terrifying, but you'll find that I'm adventure.

Take a sip.

Let it warm you all the way down.

You'll never understand what it is that makes you want more.

Strong flavor, makes you second guess your love for this herbal blend.

But still, you take another sip, smooth.

Not so hard to drink after time slips by, dancing in rhythm with patience.

All my thoughts pour out with every sip.

What a wonder it all is.

Am I really too much?

Leaves float at the top of my pool of flavored chemicals.

They must have escaped from their underwater chamber.

I don't mind, they keep me busy, trying to keep them in their place.

Tea is everything but simple.

Eyes

One of these days he'll catch my stare and we'll learn how to share this life. And we'll wipe the water from our eyes as we dive into the rest of our lives.

Singing but never choking on watered down lies, always looking forward, never back.

We'll sit crossed eyed and never really care if people stare.

For we already know what it means to be lonely, and it doesn't really matter anymore. We are the bud of youth and the spring of life still learning how to love.

We've accepted who we are and never let our hearts bleed out our insecurities. Mop in hand we clean up the messes of our lives.

It used to hurt when we stepped on sharp objects, but now we find them under our skin, as if they were always a part of us. These aliens beneath our skin.

We are the toes of life, holding each other up in perfect balance. Breathing in and out the equilibrium of pure passion.

When molecules turn to dust and frailty invades, our hands will be intertwined, wrapped up in purest delight.

Someone lost the manual to our lives, sometime before we got ours.

Lost is just another word for adventure as we move through life. Cutting holes through the defined lines of acceptable things, our own paths are drawn out understated.

Our hearts will beat to the rhythm of the rain washing our laundry hung out on lines for everyone to see.

We never really care what might happen if our inadequacies are exposed.

We'll paint the sky with the fire in our eyes, and the hope inside us will never die.

One mark below beauty.

One step above ugliness.

Somewhere lost in mystery.

There, we will dance in the silhouette of each other, your hand perfectly in mine.

YOU WOULD

I have no understanding of simple things anymore.
No longer familiar, I find the interwoven tapestry of my mind is frayed.
This foreign being has infiltrated everything I used for comfort.
It was so simple.
But now, now it's so full of doubt and second guesses.
The most frightening places are now mundane.
Nothing is real anymore.
Nothing is fake.
Nothing has sensibility.
My mind on the ceiling.
My heart on the floor.
Time is running out.
Everything seems so uneven and unpredictable.
Vulnerability is scary.
I can't hold myself back, I just might miss the one thing that I need.
I could let myself open up a little more.
Test the waters.
Your imperfection is fabulous and you make me insane.
I want to hate you for it.
Things were easier without you.
But so much more has been added because of you.
Infecting me with your presence.
WHY?
I might be lost in your eyes, but not in the least bit scared.
I feel right with you.
Safe.
Understood.
But, I still don't know.
:(

Arrogant Sky

Hollow bodies.

Are we nothing more than empty words?

Hypnosis.

Do this, do that.

I'll pencil you in.

What ever happened to that cup of sugar?

Why don't you just get off my lawn?!

We have the hardest time looking through our windows.

Sometimes there's more than just the dust on the window's ledge.

Imperfection is never acceptable.

Vanities.

The world upside down, seems more like the right way.

A facade of plastic skin.

The sickness meddles it's way through my veins.

What's really important?

I'm nothing but a fleeting organism.

A collection of molecular genius.

I so easily indulge in the fleeting aspects of my humanity.

Love.

What a word!

Not everything is about romance.

We are capable of loving the least of these.

This world is swirling with doubts and uncertainty.

We bear the fangs of a blood sucking society.

Mixed in with our own righteousness.

Lukewarm.

Neither hot, nor cold?

Hypocrites.

Might as well change our characters everyday since life is such a drama.

We've lost our sense of motion.

Sandpaper on the skin of innocence.

Let's all just swim on.