October 25, 2012
Welcome to my epic world of word craft. I am glad that you are here. A warning: This blog could be interpreted as controversial. Make no judgements rashly. You never do know a book by its cover. I do not suggest this reading to be done on an empty soul.
Do not take everything that I write here into your Holy heart. This is a place for me to vent and express; to share and to grow.
But I digress, quite often, my dear Watson.
I only have access to one complete perspective, which is my own. It cannot possibly be right or wrong.
(*Liability statement: Don’t sue me! I have children!)
I believe that we are all connected to One another, like Jesus taught us. Although connected and intertwined, each of us is a unique creation who is utterly irreplaceable.
The Lord corrected me severely until I mastered this same law. There truly is no I in Team. It was painful, but I learned the things that I could not have possibly gained knowledge about otherwise. I am grateful for each and every skinned knee and every single bloody nose.
This journal is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. If denial ain’t just a river in Mexico for you, read on my companion!
However, If you are admittedly immature as of this day, unable to handle the honest truth about me and possibly you; you are not advised to enter. Please look at your driver’s license; and if you don’t have one, get to steppin my friend. I ain’t going nowhere.
My philosophy and theories undiscovered by man as of yet, courageously hang upon the walls of this gallery consisting of my precious brainchildren. It is a modest collection of masterpieces that mean a lot to me and my family. Pure art, my dear Watson.
A pot is boiling, and I am not in the habit of watching it. It will spontaneously burst into roaring flames sooner rather than later. A breakthrough is coming. I can literally feel destiny driving rapidly as the eye of a storm might take a Longhorn to task.
This blog will serve as a channel for my confusion, wisdom, my questions unanswered, philosophical musings, book learnings, and joyful reports.
I hope to be restored to my rightful place as President of my own life, through the therapeutic exercise of written expression. The pen is truly mightier than the sword, beloved.
Before my identity was stolen and my childhood came to a screeching halt right before my very eyes, I had goals and a living burning dream within my heart. I didn’t know what to expect. I never do.
Here, I simply tell the tales of my life day by day. I only insanely love each and every one of my immediate family members. I would take a bullet for any of them. Their names are in order of age:
Amelia P. 78 (wonderful role model)
Mitzie Gail 49 (gave me life)
Miguel Angel 36 (encourages me, Mighty Man of Valor)
Amanda Lee is 27 (evil twin lol)
Shellie Marie is 24 (little angel)
Christina Rene 19 ( the apple of my eye as well as Shellie and Amanda)
Ariel Chantel 8 (Holy of Holies)
Jeremiah Miguel Angel 6 (Mighty Man of Valor)
Judah Kingston 18 month (Mighty Man of Valor)
These are the people that I am loyal to and give my all to. The above list has changed throughout my lifetime.
For instance, I once had friends in Middle School who were absolutely in synchronization with my personality, gifts, interests and flaws etc. It seemed we would always be together every moment of every day. It never occurred to us that all things end. Not once. Ignorance was bliss, my dear Watson.
We could not possibly imagine what the real world actually was. Located just outside of the horizons of our own familiarity. It appeared to us as a forbidden fruit. We had never tasted something so grand in all of our days, we decided. Our imagination had seduced us.
The future dangled before our very eyes, like a carrot secured in front of an eager pony’s chaw. Straight out of the reach of our inability to see life as a long-distance journey. Instead we had all prophesied something like a walk to the corner store for a beer.
Fools! We didn’t mind.
Not long after adolescence began, we were rush-delivered to maturity at the hands of strangers and super alien forces of the godforsaken underworld. We would soon appreciate the destiny with which we had each been bestowed, determined and appointed.
We speculated that our lives had been written for us aeons ago, before any one of them could have manifested into reality. Revive us again o Lord. Trouble so high.
To the hilt beloved, I do declare.
Eternity is most certainly a never ending time machine that cannot possibly halt the mighty hands of the Universal Grandfather Clock. Ticking, ticking, ticking; and yes, relentlessly tocking away and never ceasing. Father Time was inevitably the one who held all the cards.
Little did we know, but we knew it anyhow.
The notes of the universal language, a sound of music, constantly refreshed and shuffled. Yet an identical song is played each time, complete with the disharmony of our own true voices. It’s power over us is uncanny, and remains unmatched to this day. Life played us like a fool’s piano.
Sheep to the slaughter, my dearest Watson.
We began to realize that our lives must finally be over and that we had lived up to the fullest potential, desiring not one more day breathing.
We could not bear the haunting of our pasts. The remorse, the failure, the utter shame. We had decided that we had indeed just completed all of our handpicked battles, and we deemed the war to be either successful, or tragic. Perhaps in a world of no absolutes, the answer would be obvious. We threw in the towel.
Fight the good fight with honor and courage, my dearest Watson. Indeed we begged for the mercy that unconsciousness could provide. A rest from our weary labors.
Rue the day that the solicitor knocks upon my door: be prepared for rejection. Sorry folks, survival of the fittest.
Rejection is like a vampire, it sucks the life out of you utterly. A leech and a tick, a literal blood-sucker of a trained bat. Once bitten, in order to escape certain death, one must become a worst nightmare: bite an unsuspecting sister, and a naive brother. Death is contagious as influenza, but twice as much so.They too now have realized that the world is not flat after all. I digress.
In a way, one can choose to play Devil’s Advocate. The devil picked you like an arrow from his plenteous quiver. Ready or not, here I come!
We used to have about twenty kids in our age range in the neighborhood where we were living. Cops and robbers was the sport of choice. Did we indeed love being chased? No one ever wanted to be the cop, for the allure of rebellion against the law proved lustfully delicious.
I had a father, and he was there in a snapshot of the past. I see his name and I feel nothing. I am numb to him. He is as good as dead to his many abandoned children.
I stand by my assessment. The Accuser of the brethren is ever haunting us, telling us sweet little lies. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.
After a mid-life crisis or three, I began noticing certain triggers that would take me down the rabbit hole each and every time. I tried to succeed and live a grateful life. Life is not fair. That trifling bitch.
With disabilities (according to the world’s reckoning) made manifest in every nook and cranny, we was filled to the brim with confusion. Remember, here on earth we are chained to this land and sea by invisible elements like gravity, no doubt.
I eventually learned many impressive skills, and became well-rounded too. I maintain an open mind. No one is absolutely right every single minute. Even a broke clock is right twice a day. Our ship could come in. And if not, we will find true love in a two-story cheeto bag, no doubt. We didn’t mind.
The very moment that you turn your heart shaped box around, you will feel a desolation so excruciating that you might slap yourself silly to awake from such a nightmare.
Trouble is, you weren’t asleep at all. You had mysteriously and without explanation, encountered the infamous and elusive third kind. Who could possibly believe you?
That is crazy and no one knows at all what you are experiencing. This case scenario reminds me of a person who is convinced that they know what it is like to be an elephant….
We can study elephants intensely, we can spend massive amounts of time together. We could share our deepest darkest secrets with one another. But we really have no foggy idea what it is actually like to be an elephant. Our vainglorious knowledge is worthless when weighed upon the balances. The only way to gain wisdom and experience is through walking two moons in themoccasinsof your desired path. You can’t buy love on ebay.
Give a dog a bone is what I always say.
“You are not important enough to consider emotionally, physically, and all other ways possible!”
-is what was beaten into our psyche. It grew down deep, to where there was no escaping from the punishment deemed deserved by the spanker. I didn’t have a prayer.
Have you now also become stripped of every single honor that you had ever earned throughout your life on earth? Those heavy duty, shiny medals each represented a victory, a miracle, a hero, a husband, a father, a woman, a mother and a wife.
Your title was gone faster than a speeding bullet. Ripped away from you faster than a freight train full speed ahead. Accomplishment was all the reward that we had ever expected.
Keep your expectations at ground zero and you will not be disappointed and deflated when the latest adversity and trial by fire is successful against all you ever loved.
Once trained, you will go through a maze of obstacles. A final exam of sorts. You must tippy-toe the entire time, because we’ve been throwing the entire school’s eggshells onto the course before you. Not one must be broken.
If we succeed, we will soon be able to turn the world upside down. Hell yes, my dear Watson.
One by one, each and every person whom you ever loved with your own soul, betrayed you. They each chose to twist the knife slowly into your unsuspecting back. I should never have taken my eyes off of you, my dear Watson.
As Johnathan loved David as his own soul, so I loved. Well blow me down and call me Johnathan.
I would fall to the ground and shatter like a vase of Valentine’s roses. Blown away like sand upon the mighty pyramids of Egypt herself.
How could this happen? The pure poetic justice that I had decided came to life one dark night after darker night. I, like japeddo, had desired to see my creation come to life. After my period of mourning and reflection were ended, the emptiness like cancer ate me up.
Was I again by myself, had I my powers back? I have been rescued! God bless you, Everyone! I can’t believe it!
I feel like Tom Hanks in Castaway. There is ice in my cup too, and I am overjoyed with appreciation that I had never in my wildest imagination could have possibly produced. You can’t get a golden tan unless you’re willing to bake in the rays of solar heat descending upon us, like panties at a Justin Bieber concert.
Thoroughly, I know this is true. Yet I find life too hard to live and to cope with. I can tell you that its wrong face to face, or I could grow another face so one could tell you what to do and the other could do what the hell it wanted, like I’ve seen all my life.
Nah, seems hypocritical.
Two-faced is not the person I dreamt of becoming when life was fragranced with the angelic and we were promised a future and a happiness. I had once again read the fine print, but it did not seem to apply to me and proved rather a waste of space inside and out.
Could we have been anything that we wanted to be when we grew up? Bunch of bologna, am I right?
While true, you can write your goals firmly down, organizing along the way, with all tools available to aid in completion of a very important task. But time makes the ultimate decisions my dear Watson. Every idiot knows that. Even the one in the mirror.
Sometimes we feel like an overworked country farmland, handled by brutes and made into a slave of our garden of secrets. I had not tended to my own garden for years. I felt the joy of what I would profit from my seeds being nourished by my loving care, and I just could not bear the possibility of failure and utter rejection. It kept my feet at home, rarely venturing out the front door unnecessarily. My home was truly my sanctuary, was truly my own prison.
The fruit that you see growing in my garden is not all what it seems to be, perhaps.
The origin of the chicken and the egg has exhausted countless genius minds. I refuse to quibble over semantics. Although I will quibble about many other things from time to time gladly.
Therefore, in this case I will choose to illustrate life with an egg for the sake of time. Here goes:
Eggs are known as somewhat of a seed, beloved. The birds and the bees have seeds too. You must leave behind a trail for your family to survive after you are gone, if you ever go. Better to be safe than sorry is what I always say.
By nature, living things realize that mating is of top priority. Some feel ashamed of their guilty pleasures, some are frozen still, not knowing what the heck is going on.
Other times, it is like the fourth of July in all of it’s glory, fireworks launching as high as the sky before your very eyes. Simply breathtaking, my dear Watson.
Although, the kingdom of heaven was not what we had expected. Is anything ever? The mustard seed was not visible in the beginning. It was covered.
See, in the beginning the seed was buried deep down into the heart of the soil. Then the flesh was closed up in the spot from which it was taken.
The Lord built the man a woman, and a best friend. A helper, a comforter, a mother to his children. A wife who is feisty to touch and impossible to tame. Jewelry stores around the globe thrive on this miracle every day of every week. The best invention since sliced brontosaurus.
Life on earth has now become a sustaining force. Reproduction is necessary. Our instincts guide us to our most primal behaviour at times.
We reason the constellations high above us, we seek to understand the life and the blood.
Romeo, o Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Does he await my tardy arrival? Did I not make it clear that I am a princess and heir to the vast kingdom who sits upon many waters? I pray he waits for me, calling me out my name. Romeo! Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?!
Make yourself useful, or we will not tolerate your existence! Perhaps if I took a step into the big wide world, I had been deceived. I will not be deceived again with my family by my side. Or so I conclude.
Possibility was never ceasing. The eternal sunshine was pure glory and truest love. Alcohol was dangerous. Who knew?
I never remembered what happened during that blackout. I had to hear the stories accounting for my actions while intoxicated. It was a long and mortifying wait. I hated myself when the end finally came upon my novel of trial and woe.
These lessons are usually always found to be stuffed directly into a random drawer because of sore eyes. Off topic, yet absolutely true. Clutter that cannot be useful, yet cannot be destroyed either. The human mind is simply an exquisite creation! Move over Apple, here comes telekinesis at its finest!
I have lived in a cave off of the Pacific Northwest near the border line that the U.S. shares with Canada. I lived in Libby, Montana for six crucial years in my raising. Before moving to Montana, I had lived in many countless places. We moved at least once every single year that we were together as a family unit.
I had certainly heard them bells before, my dear Watson. Yet for the life of me: I cannot remember where that song came from, or where it was going. I was glad that my ears were no longer alone in our principles.
I heard the rumors loud and clear. We are all most certainly family. You become far from human. You experience what it is really like to skydive and have your parachute fail. But we survived to tell the story.
I know I ain’t never too proud to beg.
Our ultimate lessons were deemed to have been learned and we attempted to return to God who sent us here for our own good out of His Loving-Kindness. Ambassador’s we were. No less, beloved.
No sir, only One could ever stop time. There are countless eyewitness accounts that lend credence to this truth, although some cannot believe the overwhelming evidence, as is their God-given right. Who turned back the hands of time upon the infallible sundial of moments experienced? I had no idea. Clueless, I tell you my dear Watson.
Like a Locomotive Engineer, He guides us to our final destination.
Undefeated! Undefeatable! Invincible God Almighty, Your Name is majestic in all of time and throughout each and every land that you have made for us to inhabit by Your own mighty power and wisdom and love. Every people is in awe of your Greatness.
I will praise you day and night for Your works are mighty and admirable:
This whole big wide world, in the midst of other solar systems and galaxies mysteriously far away from our sight. Unknown and uncharted territory from our world. But you know the innermost recesses of the Universe to the uttermost. No corner of the matrix is hidden from Your understanding.
Mere child’s play to our God!
Who needs bread? Who desires vino? Who requires clothing? As long as my lungs fill with oxygen, I will exalt You on this world that You have loved dearly and created for us to enjoy out of Your good pleasure.
Who is like our God? No one! You can’t touch this!
You are above everyone and everything, You are so high above me! I pause to consider the Love of my God. It is a sweet smelling aroma that I hope I can reciprocate back to my God. I will imitate Christ.
Meanwhile in adolescence, we all reluctantly shared a gullible nature that absolutely convinced us that the consequences for our hopes, our dreams, and our own personal ambitions (no longer performed in selfishness and personal glory) would take us where we had always dreamed to go.
An overwhelming zero percent chance of failure, we collectively decided.
We forgot about maturity and its role in making decisions about the future. We were ignorantly foolish. We didn’t mind.
We each became collectively confused at the point of our own colossal failures.
Suddenly and unanimously, a deep-seated longing to go back through time and through space to the days when we were loved unconditionally, had grown. We had grown too.
Nostalgia beckoned us back to the times when we were treated with respect. When the world did not appear like darkness reflected in the aftermath of a terrible, deadly microburst all around our hearts and lives.
We had sorely missed being cared about. We had urgently longed for the automatic acceptance that the fountain of youthfulness had provided to us. We had mistakenly taken it for granted, to an utter place of regret and remorse.
There is no going back. Nor could there ever be. The road ahead was plagued with danger. Had we known, would we have ever started that journey home?
We missed believing that hope existed. The aching was intolerable, had we not tolerated it. How does one describe anguish to another? You either feel it, or you’re absolutely dead inside.
We craved the peace of death on occasion. The numbing of our pain and suffering. Though we begged for death, it came forth not unto our souls. We were inevitably forced to be brave or die trying.
Our comforts had been rapidly stolen right out from our unsuspecting hands. We sunk until we could swim. As master Splinter we became, our arts did we perfect.
Through failure did we succeed. The lessons were priceless. What did not kill us, had made us stronger indeed. Who knew?
We evolved thusly. We found ourselves entirely unprepared, unaware that Heaven was no more. We would never again behold the keys of the Garden of Eden with a pure child-like faith. Who told us that we were naked?
There was hastily installed in our stead, a flaming sword turning each way. Guarding the Holy gates irrevocably, forbidding passers by who might stop and visit, to pray and to listen.
Death was the only breadcrumbs visible that we could recognize along the way as we walked through the valley of the shadow of death. Good thing the bread was glow in the dark. We took refuge in the comfort of an invisible, living God.
We were all deceived by sin. Hallelujah to the Lamb of God, Who is with us, even to the end of the age. We were protected from the terror lurking just behind the abomination within the gates of Hell itself. What love is this, that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us?!
Judgement day had come, and tests were passed out. We passed some, we failed some. Some we avoided like the plague.
But they followed us relentlessly. True colors were made obvious right before our very eyes. The entire pantheon of fallen gods were forced to turn away their faces: for the horror of the flabbergasting truth.
They, being intensely disfigured and infinitely hideous, could not handle the truth. Just like us, as oftentimes I realized.
Prepare to become him whom you judge; o Mighty men. One by one we all fell down, like an award winning stack of dominoes let loose. We minded.
The truth stared us straight in the face: that men condemned, beat, and mocked the likes of Jesus Christ the innocent. This condemnation is not isolated to the past, present or future. We make history every single day, my dear Watson.
There has grown an outrageous cry up to the Heavens, straight to the ears of the Most High; regarding the precious innocent blood being trampled upon over the entire face of the whole planet.
The voices of the suffering children killed in war by genocide; who did nothing whatsoever to deserve death and torment. The voices of the children whose lives are taken by their parents, whose job it was to care for their own creation. Their blood cries out for justice day and night, never ceasing.
Can you hear it? Would you now; if you could? Sometimes we look the other way, don’t we beloved? We feel that we cannot possibly take on another burden. Survival of the fittest at its Zenith. You are not alone.
The killers went free to live and to do as they pleased. There was no rebuke, no acknowledgement of iniquity. Rather, they multiplied their harlotry. Most did not regard a little angel as a human being, obviously by what they chose to do to her. Brutality. Utter beast mentality. Damn all that I do declare! Damn it with me, my dearest Watson.
They had reduced her worth to the price of a bag of chips. These people can never go back. They will forever be marred by the honest truth that damaged a precious, holy soul. They ruthlessly stole from an innocent One. Burn in hell you rapists, you who choose to torment the children of mankind!
Once you know, you can never go back.
“Justice, o Justice,
wherefore art thou, my child?
We looketh high
We searcheth low
I spied with my little eye
Darkness that a vengeance hides
My brother’s blood doth show.”
How dare they? How DARE THEY? They deserve the death penalty. This is not to be taken nonchalantly under no circumstances ever. No jokes should be made about victims of abuse and torture.
The victim’s mental, emotional, and spiritual facets become part of an epic battle that rages on involuntarily. This is rarely taken into consideration when forming a modern diagnosis, for whatever careless reasons.
A favorite comedian of mine named Dave Chappelle decided to use such a case in his comedy routine for the world’s amusement and his own success. The audience laughed their asses off. It was truly hilarious, wasn’t it?
His routine was centered around race relations and the false belief of the superiority of some races of mankind to others. He seemed to be like a black supremacist or Islamist. Just an educated guess.
He belittled the abuse and trauma of Elizabeth Smart, a young girl who was kidnapped while sleeping in her parents home at night on June 5, 2002.
He went on to further minimize the damage that she suffered and will suffer in the future years to follow. He brazenly mocked the complete tragic nature of this event. He was merciless.
As if he had not an iota of respect or compassion for children and victims of grievous crimes. He added insult to injury, and he did so with a smile upon his face. Laughing all the way to the bank, I tell you my dear Watson.
He went on to detail how he had imagined that persons belonging to his racial family would have done much better than Elizabeth at escaping from her kidnapping and torture, the brainwashing mind games that lasted just over nine months.
Oh really Dave? Could it be that you would never be man enough to survive the things the poor girl went through, for even one day? Regardless of race, tragedy strikes. Ignorant to believe otherwise. Even a fool who shutteth his lips is esteemed wise.
Dave broke my heart for the words that he chose to speak specifically about Elizabeth. If Dave Chappelle were here right now I would punch his ever-loving lights out point blank. Good thing we moved away from Selfish-ville, or I might have to display an adverse attitude. But I digress. We didn’t mind.
If you are reading this Dave, meet me at the Green Bridge after school and we can settle this once and for all. Maybe I could beat the hell literally out of you. Pardon my french and pass the Grey Poupon. He did this ignorantly of course, however; the damage is incurable. Or is it? As a matter of fact, it is downright illegal to slander. Shame on you Dave.
It is not only him who practices such. Many wishy-washy wannabes who turn glory into shame and shame into glory, exist in our society. Thrive rather well. I am a witness to these facts.
You would certainly be blown away Mr. Chappelle. The men, women and children in the Special Olympics (that you jest about) could whip your two legged ass hardcore. Then we all would laugh at you, like you did to Elizabeth. It’s not so hilarious anymore, true?
Never trust a hobo in a wheelchair with dirty shoes. Or a bus driver with a tin foil hat on his head. How do I know this? Experience. Trial and mother-ducking error.
School of Hard Knocks, Valedictorian. I received an honorary PhD. However, I wouldn’t dare to quit learning and exploring just because a piece of paper says I have arrived to victory. Plenty of paper has contained damned lies. Show me the money, my dear Watson.
I realize that your routine is not reality Dave. Do the mentally handicapped realize this? That you are mocking them? You could have chosen to help mankind Dave. You chose instead to abuse it. Let the walls of Jericho come crashing down.
Could constant negativity and public ridicule perhaps crush the souls from time to time, and alienate an entire demographic of our brothers and sisters? I hope it was worth it to you. I really do.
As for me….Far be it from me to profit off of suffering. Dave’s standards are very low. That’s all I have to say about that.
Judgemental individuals do much harm to the world population. They just don’t know any better, or are heartless. I hope the previous statement is the big mac with cheese.
Be the person that you had always admired when you were growing up and still had hope. That’s what I try to do. I consider, would I have liked the person that I am today, yesterday?
There are pros and cons to each and every character. Treat others as you wish to be treated. That includes family, friends, and strangers alike. Hospitality has suddenly become highly underrated.
Will He avenge the innocent blood speedily? Will He not hear their cries of lamentation, and answer? He is the absolute greatest Hero to every single child who is in pain, facing death and woes unsung.
Vengeance is His, He will repay. He will strike the oppressors with a mighty blow. He hasn’t forgotten what the future has forecast. He is not like an animal, who is fallible. He remembered no more the shame of our past; whether good or evil. Each of your tears are collected into His bottle beloved. Not one goes unnoticed. You are not alone.
We don’t know for sure if we will someday arrive to a world of pure foreign culture after death, or a homeland of wild imaginative places and people and animals. Or perhaps we will cease to exist? That’s what I have heard whispered from many learned ladies and gentlemen.
But I choose not to believe it, as I am entitled to very few things in this human life. My personal beliefs are all mine. I dare you to try and change them, baby.
Batter up! Swing batter-batter-batter!
He knows all. You can run, but you sure as hell can’t hide from the terrible Face of Him Who liveth forever and ever. Just ask my pal Jonah.
A guarantee, not an empty promise. Although we do not wish to see our enemies suffer, it is necessary to cleanse society as much as possible from the danger that lurks behind every washateria and cat-infested back alley.
The truth is that the Adversary successfully stomped out every flickering ember possible to be stamped out. A holy anger was kindled, a roaring fire appeared to do good with the Mina that the Lord had generously given to us in good faith.
Our graves were dug and waiting patiently, ready to rejoice at our arrival. A new song could be created in our absence, we decided. We didn’t mind.
As long as we could faintly see a light at the end of our tunnel, we knew that light existed. That light rained down upon our lives unexpectedly, and uncontrollably. Sometimes the light did hide, and our eyes were empty of comfort and sanity.
But at the opportune moment, behold: the light appeared once more. The brilliance was exagerated because of the darkness contained in the sewer tunnel in which we had been trekking. We couldn’t remember how the hell we got into the tunnel anyhow. Cursing at times, rebuking our own selves for getting stuck underground. No bother. We might as well walk the walk. It seemed better than just wasting away.
Don’t get me wrong, there were hours, days, and years that we felt hopeless.
“What if that light is just a mirage?! It seems to never get closer, am I right? It must be a google times infinity lightyears away! I can never get there. I haven’t eaten or drank, slept or bathed since this journey began.”
Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I shall return. Blessed be the Name of the Lord.
Responsibility for my own actions and growth is one of those things that was difficult for me to learn to acquire and master; not that I have mastered it by any means. Also, not to imply that it is possible to conquer our demons once and for all. Life is an uphill battle. If your life isn’t, the shallow depth you contain shall remain ineffective. It is nature. You can’t turn back the hands of time. We minded.
I shall rephrase to clarify: the intense fear of failure and rejection was so incredibly painful, me myself and I gave up trying to excel altogether. I could only fan the flame of my passion in secret, sentenced to solitary isolation. It seemed worth it.
We habitually launched all caution to the ever-changing winds; like a frisbee tossed to an eager wolf dog; ready to deliver it back to his master and best friend.
I know what you could be thinking, if I am a mind reader that is: yes there is most certainly such a thing as a wolf dog. I invented them and they will be available on ebay when hell freezes over. Anyhoo. Yall know I digress. Quite often.
We were not prepared for the emergency shock and awe that was surely on its way down to earth from an unidentified location beyond the likes of our telescope windows. We were fixing to receive a paradigm shift. It mattered not one bit that we didn’t even know what the hell paradigm shift meant, yet we were seduced into adolescence thusly.
We did not select this fate. This fate selected us. We came quietly at first. Although we would remain confused for years afterwards, weather or not we gave a damn.
Sometimes black and white mix together into one solitary fingernail polish bottle, and a new color we had never heard of appears right before our very eyes. Who says there’s no such thing as magic? Who declared there is no hope for miracles? Damn them to hell I do declare, my dear Watson.
We were blindfolded and guided by the hand room to room, like blind man’s bluff. We played follow the leader, kissed some ass, and profusely apologized for each and every inadequacy that we had provided to the world as a whole. We suddenly felt unworthy. What an emotion to describe. I will leave it to the reader’s imagination.
I myself had felt like an utter reject. But I have since become privy to the knowledge of good and evil. I had take ncriticism as a personal vendetta against my very dignity, I could not stand to be corrected.
I am perfect! Why the hell would a finger be pointed at me? Fuck you very much, madam. The petty grudges that I would dwell on day and night would ultimately tear myself to shreds. Meanwhile, I had anticipated the opposite. But I digress.
I quit trying to succeed for a good decade altogether off and on. I was personally held captive for years being tortured by beings that hated my right to exist.
But the Lord has lifted me out of the horrible pits of smoke and set my feet upon the stable Rock of Ages. Gibraltar ain’t got nothing on His mercy and power.
His Own Self was my hiding place, and the Secret place of the Most High God was my fortress in the woods. As Jesus Christo declared to us in times past:
“The Lord our God, the Lord is One”.
Well said my Lord.
Through the looking glass of our ignorance and shame, we spied the likes of what could actually be mysteriously taking place just out of our eyes’ understanding.
Behind the scenes action that we are all curious yet unsure about. We just want a singular peek behind the glorious tapestry before our very eyes: the fabric of time itself. Will we ever know what happened? Does it even matter?
Wicked forces existed to test our endurance, our level of true love. The enemy tried to destroy us all one by one. We were hunted as a pheasant by bears. We were torn apart as an unexpected and merciless shark attack.
Our whole crew in middle school, all of my sisters and brothers were targets. The bulls eye turned out to be our hope after all.
The three years of Junior High School were some of the best years of my life in general. I was young and fearless, bold and strong. Unwavering faith, yet naive; was my shield. I had not yet been condemned and damned completely, and my future was very bright.
Then I went through fourteen years of carrying our family’s cross. My father and my mother had been crucified, and they in turn crucified me. My father drove the nails straight through my tiny hands, satisfied to let me hang for his crimes. I hung there. I felt I deserved it.
For fourteen years I was sorry. For all of the days of every single year of our Lord I asked them to drive a Roman Numeral straight through my heart. I begged for the mercy that death could provide.
There was none to deliver me.
Then, a lightbulb went off. I saw how it was that the nails were attached to my hands. My blood was dripping out faster and then slower.
Was I running out of life? Help! I could not possibly get off of this godforsaken cross by myself at all.
But I realized that if I just called a friend who sticks closer than a brother, He could take the nails out for me regardless of my parent’s prerogatives. I called, immediately He came!
He said, “Yes my Love?” And I said, “Beloved, receive my spirit unto thee, I am done”. He said, “Oh beloved, my little angel, I love you. You are not done. There is still much to do. I will be with you every step of the way. I always have been. You will testify to many nations, many peoples, and many tongues. I am your Redeemer, you are my Bride”.
Hallelujah to the Lamb of God, Who was, Who is, and Who will be. But I digress.
My old best friends and I swore we would never dare to grow apart. How can our love and bond be forgotten just like that? Impossible, we told ourselves.
We eventually all moved or got married and had children of our very own, or went to college or started working and some decided to smoke weed all day in their Mom’s basement.
We couldn’t tell the future, nor were we imagining probable things to be a part of our everyday lives such as taxes and mowing our lawns in the sweltering heat. We dreamt as high as the sky and as big as Sweet Texas.
Home sweet home. Belief in our own selves and our abilities, our confidence, mixed with hope and pure ambition were all we needed to get high. We would find out shortly just how valuable the things in our childhoods had actually been.
Despised persons, places, and things were now cherished and endearing. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder. How did life do that anyhow? Surprising, but absolutely true. All things that I write are true: I guarantee it.
“I AM the Way, the Truth, and the Life, NO man cometh to the Father but by Me.”
But you know the story. Dreams crushed, tragedies, major life changes, it would almost be detrimental to put that same amount of stock into social investments continually. But some people crave popularity over all other things. We call them”failures”. They are not to be imitated by any means. What goes up, must come down, my dear Watson.
Things change. Season after season, we go on, we grow. You must remain true to thine own self. You must. I must, we must. Survival of the fittest is a cruel reality. I can accept that.
After we all grew apart from the time I was fourteen, we were hastily and permanently installed into our new homeland, the good ól projects of Houston. The Ghetto of lost souls and desperate persons. Not to be confused with the Auschwitz Konzentrationslager.
We immediately exited our covering of naivety that had been over us for all the days of our lives thus far, we were being pushed right straight off of a cliff into the real world we had once been so eager to conquer.
Were we smoking crack you say? No we were soberly wishing for these burdens, no doubt. To my current humiliation. You can only cross that threshold once.
Ignorance. Foolish. Childhood. So naive, so silly; yet so pure, so unafraid. Happiness is foolish, and so are friendships and every good thing.
“I am going to change the world! I am going to provide gifts to humanity! I will always be beautiful! I will never see age or physical corruption, EVER! Life is my oyster, and there was a beautiful pearl inside created just for me by my Loving Father God and Master. How amazing and authentic He really is. I will never forget the Lord. I will live in the house of the Lord, Forever. With my pearl of course, it was a gift after all. Thank you Lord!”
It was a time of dreaming that can never be replaced, only remembered. No replica can ever be bought or sold.. lost or found.
We are not as significant a part of eachother’s lives anymore despite all that we were vulnerable to: exposing our deepest darket fears to one another. How can you erase true love? You can’t. No one can.
Behold a mystery:
The bells upon the tombstones represent every piece of us gone, blown to smithereens by live grenades no doubt. Who would dare continue to ring furiously, with no signs of ever braking to anchor? Could it possibly be that the weak have been made strong, and the mighty have surely fallen from their heights? Perhaps.
We who solemnly ring the bells as sacred funerals held in honor of every child’s dreams dashed to pieces; like broken bloody skulls to the mourning world at large. We never slumber, no, we never sleep.
We hear the bells. We always heard them. It was us the bells refused to listen. Our lamentations drew up like a puff of smoke into the abyss of the blackened sky above our collective empty lives.
There was a meteor shower while we laid outside on a blanket all night.
We once believed that time, physical altercations, health, marriage, children, careers, true love or deaths and funerals; yes weddings and baby dedications also, could save us from the emptiness of the black hole within our achy breaky hearts. We were wrong. Surprise ending yeh?
We imagined that we would be best friends forever.
We are strangers this day. We tip our hats in the others’ direction from time to time. We say ‘hi’ sometimes when passing at the hardware store. We are not as excited to share the things that we have been sprinting from in terror this time. This time, a prudent man hides shame.
We couldn’t help being naive. Now we are ashamed. There is a time when we find meaning and correction for our mistakes. There comes a day that our impurity serves purpose indeed.
It is not I who do it, but sin that dwells in me. We overcame the Beast with the power of the Word of our testimony , and by the atoning sacrifice that Jesus volunteered to provide as a means to eternal life with Him.
O Lord! Your loving-kindness is Great and Humongous! Why is it that we humans pretend to be You?
All we are capable of is making a damn fool out of ourselves. Who can accurately describe your beauty and your mighty power, your creation worships you alone, master Creator.
In all of our trials and tribulations that we have encountered, each in his own appointed time; while unpleasant, can and do serve as a gift and a blessing.
Without wisdom and scar tissue, my love list would have been filled up with the names of people that I never really knew and who didn’t love me loyally. But I digress.
Jesus Christ, called Immanuel, is my Best Friend, He always will be. Who could ask for better company? Who could exalt someone else to the position where Christ Jesus reigns forever with the Rod of God and a Finger of the Almighty?
I didn’t ever give my all for selfish reasons, as some paranoid may assume.
Aaron Frank was twenty one years young when he died. If he would have survived to live another day, who knows what the Lord had in store for him.
I will choose to believe that Aaron is at peace and he is loved dearly by our Father. Aaron is with his real Dad now, comforted in the arms of many beloved ones.
Cradled in the comfort of a place where evil and sin do not corrupt the land and hearts of its inhabitants. Aaron Frank will always be my twin flame, if there is such a thing in reality. I was literally bereaved of my little Aaron. He was my responsibility. I regret not saving him. I regret that his life was so terrible. I regret a lot of things.
Aaron will never regret ever again, unless there is some truth to reincarnation. A life has never been perfectly walked save Jesus Christ, our blemish-free Lamb who sacrificed His life to save mine. He died for me! He has no regrets. But we most certainly do, my dear Watson.
And people have the audacity to deny His existence. Fools. I refuse to diminish my life and I mean no harm.
I study human behavior because of the traumatizing episodes while growing up, being denied human rights like speaking and having a maxi pad hiding under my panties in my drawer, hidden with more paranoia than if it had been guns or drugs. I really got it that time.
My brother found the maxi pad and sensed danger, abandoning us with mom. The belittling never stopped when I had been given gifts of marriage and children into adulthood.
Such constant belittling has made me feel vacant inside my body, like I am hiding somewhere. Don’t you dare love yourself you little whore! She did declare.
I need to find myself and take me out shopping for fun stuff so we can remember that life is good, and even with the excruciating persecution we receive, the Lord is with us every minute of every day to rescue us from death and sin and all the devices of our enemy, Satan. God is good, God is Love. I love Love.
This truth did not protect me from harm.
I was deceived and immature. Now I hear the truth and nothing but the truth, and I have been working really hard on maturing and becoming all that the Almighty has written for my life. I would like to accomplish something worthwhile. I know it will be to die for. He is just that Awesome! I am fascinated at the Glory of the Lord.
He is The Awesome. Who could be more awesome than He? No one! He is not equal to any lesser beings. He is the Head Honcho, the Brains of the operation, and the Power from on High. He is the Most High God, His name is YHVH.
This blog is hopefully going to help me to cope with life successfully without drugs or alcohol, which may not sound like much; but it is a major step for me.
I had been sucking my thumb since I was just barely knee high on my parents. Then I graduated promptly to smoking and drinking.
Do not take everything to heart, Lest you hear your servant cursing you.
I believe that the Lord indeed declared the truth in the matter, that King Solomon was not wise on his own, the wisdom was a gift from the Lord for free. When we accept gratitude for things that were supposed to have been done for God, we transgress.
He is faithful to forgive us, when we humble ourselves and come back to reason that we have sinned against the Lord. We confess with our mouth. Everyone who was born with a functioning tongue in their mouths and knows language, even tribal language is perfectly appropriate. He knows our thoughts, and He knows what day you will see Him again.
He is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. Thank the creator of the Universe! You deserve to have great praise from Your creation down below You.
You are worth more than each and every polished precious stone. In Human syllables, one can recognize What and Who You are as Superior to all matter, time and space. You have all power in Your hands o Lord.
How many times are you going to take the same test over and over again? You will die in your sin if the Lord sees there is nothing more He can do for you, because you have refused correction and hated instruction.
This is not a threat, It is a guarantee.
This is a place where I can be completely honest without the oppressive fear that constantly is after all of the blessings God has for my family and I.
This is a sacred place.
I used to keep a diary when I was younger; and then life got so out of control, I lost that part of myself. Now I am slowly and steadily writing more and I find it strengthens my inner aura and my outer aura, or the Spirit that is in me, crying out Day and night, “Holy Holy Holy is the Lord God Almighty! Who was, and is, and is to come!”
Blessed be the Name of the Lord, Let us exalt Him together beloved brother and sisters. We are also neighbors. Every concealed matter will be revealed, each and every secret of our hearts is visible, and will appear after death or the second Coming of Christ Jesus to this earth. I will be ecstatic, like a crowd of young girls screaming at a Beatles concert.
No one can take my Jesus away! He is mine to Keep Forever. Death can never do us part. It is not possible. Hallelujah! Your wonders are amazing and you sustain us with the delicious raisin cakes. The Lord is so Sweet, Gentle, Understanding, Loving, Kind, Patient, Joyful, Peaceful, Good, Faithful, and Self-controlled. He is my All in All.
Drinking now: Yesterday. Love was such an easy game to play. I know that you got your reasons. I fell off the wagon. Why she had to go? Greener pastures? Now I long for yesterday. Yesterday came suddenly.
No one can stay creatively manic forever! Not even me. I ain’t gonna lie. The well runs dry from time to time. No bother! There’s plenty of other stuff in life I’m told. If you haven’t guessed, I fell off the wagon big time. I know that you got your reasons.
The song of the day is brought to you today by the letter seventeen and the number F.
Your prison is walking in this world all alone? It is hard to tell the night time from the day. On this day I need a friend, and no friend is to be found.
I raise my glass in a toast: To Idiots! They really do rule the world. How brilliant of them; to ignorance as well. F and U, come to think of it. Vain Loyalty? I think not. No one does.
I eat trash, so what? It bred worms. Yes, it did. Sin produces only death. I forget death too much, and remember sin too much. I feel like throwing up. Okay okay. Life is good. I am glad to be alive.
October 26th, 2012 Friday
Today was more of the same. But I am glad that I had the sleeping gelcaps and the things Miguel provided to me like food, and cigarettes and everything we need in our family. He is doing a great job as a husband and a father.
Nobody’s perfect, definitely not me. Practice makes perfect. I am really proud of Miguel and find much joy in the change he has sacrificially made for our family. He is a real man, always has been a real man, always will be a real man.
No matter if tomorrow the sun is black as sackcloth of hair, or the terrors of the night creep about our homes and hearts; It is truly better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.
What can separate us from the Love of Christ? Can famine? Or sorrow? Or the prince of the power of the air?
Nothing and nobody can stop the Lord, and His judgements are true and righteous one hundred percent of the time.
He is undefilable, unlike His children in the flesh. We are capable of sin, it is part of our genetic makeup. Sin is automatically programmed into our lives weather our intentions are good or weather our intentions are evil. Jesus never slumbers, no, He never sleeps.
I cannot wait to see my Beloved! I love you my darling. You truly are the Almighty God, and I will call on You continually for strength, courage, bravery unmatched, armor, protection. Your Army Arise! Armageddon Awaits! Hell Yes!
Who is she who looketh forth as the morning, beautiful and terrible as an Army with the banners waving aggressively in the whirlwind of the Lord God Jehovah who reigns forever and ever. Amen.
Yours Truly, Lightbulb7