Jesus, I just wrote a long post about poverty that turned into an expose of my mother's family. It devolved into an indignant rant in the end, lacking both sympathy and reason. Somehow I managed to weave in Trump's defense team's performance in the Senate and the total lack of critical thinking required of anyone once they get out of school which only two of my mother's family ever have. It turned into an indictment of the dumbing down of the American mind. And I blamed republicans most, though I challenged the knowledge that went into Biden's $2,000 give away. Oh, yea. . . it was a mess.
A deleted mess.
There is too much on my clouded mind this morning, and last night I took a little early V-Day gift that fucked me up and kept me in bed until almost eight. The morning is warm and wet and uninspiring. My mind is a piece of spongy moss.
The faeries were everywhere last night. They scared and enchanted me, so I stayed out with them as long as I could with my magic elixir. It contributes to today's muddle as well, I think.
Talking to faeries can be dangerous. Of course. Talking to luminescent fungi may be worse. I read somewhere that they might be edible, but I'm not ready to take that chance.
I have a mess of trouble that I am not reporting here right now, and I am quite paralyzed by it all. I am trying to deal, but daily I am breaking down a bit more. I feel like a man holding onto a ledge. How long can the fingers last? It is a life, you say, but it is not one to be envied or desired. My feet search for a foothold. If only I can find a foothold, I think, I'd have a chance. But now, it is all fingers and fear.
It is hard to think that God doesn't hate me. It is not so hard in guessing why.
Jesus, I just went on another rant that got deleted. I can seem to make no progress with this post today. And now, midmorning, there is thunder and darkness. I think I should have stuck with the faeries. The picture was supposed to go with the long post I deleted. No matter. It is pretty good. It can stick.
"Classical Gas" reminded me of another video. Remember this one?
ReplyDeletehttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6-K-arVl-U
ReplyDeleteThose are some awesome fairies.
God isn't punishing you. He's rewarding you.
Being introduced to God as a child, in a liberal wealthy suburb of NYC. A Protestant Sunday School that was as Norman Rockwell as you could imagine.
We learned God = Love.
All that Old Testament stuff is great story-telling to draw you in.
You got naked people in a garden in like the first chapter. C'mon. AND they tell you that as a little kid, if you're paying attention. I, of course, was enthralled.
And then all the other stuff ( I feel like I might have said this before - or wrote it and deleted it). Anyway, fires, whales, queens, kings - plagues. Did I? Fuck I smoke too much weed before I come here.
Yea I think I did say this already.
It's that second half that drips with Love. Oh sure there's some shit in there - what novel doesn't suffer some shit. Even if it is minor. AND there is still adventure and all - miracles. Imagine feeding 5000 with 5 loaves & 2 fishes. A gruesome killing of an innocent man who takes the fall for us all for forever.
If we just do some basic shit. Love each other as God loves us.
God = Love = Art = Love = God = Art
Anyway. Tangent.
I've made room for them in my gardens for years. Oh we are back to the Fairies.
Little houses to dwell. Tiny swing sets. And chairs. Benches. Fairy Gardens. They were all the rage 10 years ago.
The garden center was doing weekly seminars on how to make one. I never got overly gaudy rather just left open a seat should their wings get tired a bit. Perhaps a little place to dine.
I've been obsessed with miniatures since a kid. I can't turn up a special tiny chair. Sigh. I must stop. I did thrift today.
I got THE BEST NEW WALLET.
It has a picture of Lloyd Dobler holding up the boom box from "Say Anything." On both sides.
Who doesn't just love Lloyd Dobler? If I could procure a matching handbag with him as Rob Gordon from "High Fidelity," Wow. That would be something.
And I bought a bunch a objet d' art to pimp at the shop. Ma is going to take the price tags off and polish them up for me for delivery tomorrow.
I got myself a lobster for dinner tonight. One 2lb. From the fish market a kid I used to teach Sunday School to and took on a mission trip with Habitat now owns and is doing really well. Osterville Fish Market - shout out.
I hadn't had a whole lobby and quite a while. I had them cook it for me and I picked it up at 5. Melted some butter. They don't last long. It was good. I enjoyed it. I don't like the claws anymore and you pay for the weight. The knuckles, the tail and all the sweet meat in the tail shells that you suck out and the legs that you suck like a straw. Mine had some roe. I spread some on crackers as a side.
I'm having a Saturday night Kombucha after a dog-walker outside with Monster Boy who wanted to stay out in the now freezing rain to play. I'll take him out one more time before bed.
I heard Trump Got Off again and Mitch did something like blowing Donald Trump while Masturbating to AOC. (I LOVE YOU GIRL - that's why I said it - Cause you are 100% masturbatorish - Gorgeous, smart, brave.)
I can't be bothered. What good does it do? Be Kind to each other at the simplest level possible.
When the person in the Dunkin Donuts drive through says "Hey how are you doing today, what can I get you?"
Tell him "I'm doing fine and how are you...?"
Night U. x