Repent, Repent!

At some point in my early life, I was (for a very brief moment) wise beyond my years and made the decision that a church wasn’t meant for me. I just didn’t like it. Plus, it’s probably one of the leading causes of death throughout our history. I’m fortunate to not have any violently traumatic experiences associated with a church, but I do have an amazing repertoire of relationships and times that have been damaged in the name of personal beliefs. It happens more often than I’d like.

I also have incredibly little knowledge in theology. Although I do have an above-average history of anthropological education. I’m stupidly curious. I spent way more time in school than I should’ve. 

Throughout this experience though, everyone has been so unexpectedly welcoming and respectful. For the first time in my life, I’ve actually been asked if I have any moral implications before being blessed. When the hell did everyone get so mature?

Except, (of course, there’s always an exception) the one old acquaintance that reached out and blatantly assumed my health troubles were due to the amount of drugs I was consuming. Mind you, this is someone I’ve had no interaction with in a decade. Someone with no current knowledge of my life, where I stand, what I’ve done, what I continue to do, who I surround myself with, and is unfamiliar with my mentality. Still, despite not knowing, she proceeded to wishfully warn that the “good lord should take mercy on my poor soul” because you know, I’m truly evil and in dire need of salvation.

My response was short for selfish reasons, brevity is incredibly useful. My time and effort are far too precious to waste on something so trivial and meaningless. I retain no hard feelings, but it is a perfect example of the ignorance that will make you lose things along the way. Zealotry and stupidity at its finest.

My relationship with god and spirituality is not a complicated one. I simply do not know enough and I never will. So it remains largely respectful. However, I am edgy, I am a product of what I grew up with, and I all too often lash out against religion. Plus, I have an affinity for the hidden and occult, the darker side of things. The imagery. The stories and art associated with it. I proudly live in traditional sin.

Nevertheless, I appreciate the effort to keep me in prayer, meditation, & thought circles. To keep me, in any sort of positive mental capacity, it’s a beautiful place to be in. It’s a place I can’t complain about being in. Only a fool would do so. 

I am a believer in the power of ones own conscience. I’m weird that way. I’d rather give an individual effort and quality to a person and our interactions than to whatever subset they’re a part of. It’s only fair, even though I’m frequently on the receiving end of such lectures. Go figure. Oh the humanity.

Cluster Fuck

Disclaimer: This piece was written over the multiple hospital stays in the past weeks. It purposely remains unedited and largely pointless. But it came from somewhere. I’d be doing a disservice to myself if I didn’t share it.

My head is killing me. For the second time in 2 years, it has literally been split in two. It is being held together by a few staples, the steroids help with the swelling and inflammation, and the antibiotics help with all the gunk thats been introduced to my body. Plus the painkillers are a necessary evil, I don’t think there’s a way I could support the inherent tension inside my head otherwise. I’m a bit unclear on size, but I know there’s a void in there, I can feel it. 

I’m a medical marvel, really. It’s all rather confusing and overwhelming. I don’t know what to think or what to feel. Except that for now, for this moment, this nightmare has passed. It’s over. 

Really, what more thought should there be than that ? At one point, you have to consider the scope becomes too large for ambition, too large to manage, and back in the circle we go. Just another cogs in the machine, if you will. At a time like this, I refuse to consider that possibility. I refuse to fall back into that cycle. 

To everyone that has reached out. Thank you. Your kind wishes and words do not go unnoticed. Believe me when I say that this experience has taught me to try and be the bigger person. Not for your sake, but for mine. I have very little say in how you should manage. If there is a piece of advice I could offer is that very little matters when you’re buckling down in an emergency room bed, begging for your next shot of morphine to help ease the pain, however little it may actually do to help

I guess that’s the ultimate point. Being wise enough to choose your battles. In a perfect world, we would always have this special ability, this magical foresight that allows us to meticulously choose and derive how we feel, before coming to a decision. But we both know this world is far from perfect. We’re far for perfect.

More importantly, it’s not to be made an excuse. Rather taken as an opportunity. You want to cope with yourself. You want to cope with others and I say this within reason. You’re ultimately the one in charge of your decisions and your feelings.

We all have, have had, and will continue to have our faults. They’re facts of life. But it doesn’t have to remain that way. Of course, this is where the hard part comes in. You have to be willing, you have to be succumbing to some change.  So try not to be a crappy person. It doesn’t help anyone. Not even you. 

I look forward to getting some much deserved rest and showing myself what a great person can be, even when I don’t fit the mold of a model citizen. That stuff is overrated and outdated anyway.  

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but I do

Your dreams and fantasies never consider the full realities of life. It’s impossible.

Because there’s no way of knowing what the future holds. Because there’s no way of knowing how the past has affected it. Because reality can change in an instant.

It’s fluid and unpredictable. There’s no warning. No guarantee.  

It’s a completely unknown void. Take it as you will.

This isn’t the type of announcement I had in mind

But it’s here and it’s unavoidable. I’m headed for an additional head surgery on November 14th.

Even though the possibility of recurrence was always present, I automatically moved past it. You don’t think about that sort of thing very often. Plus I’ll have you know, my prognosis is amazing. 

Still though, fuck. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.

My conscious self focuses on it about 10 times a day. My subconscious self hasn’t stopped processing it since I received the news. Overall though, I‘ve never been better. Life’s never been greater. It’s important for me that you know that.

As much as I want to end this by wishing you Jabronies well, I’d first like to say thanks.

Thanks to those who have read and continue to read through the site. Thanks to those that follow updates. Thanks to those that have put up stickers and tags all around the digital & analog world. Thanks to those that have encouraged me to pursue more, and thanks to the 2 grammar narcs that have made the effort to correct me via mail.

It wouldn’t be the same without you.

P.S. There will be a delay in ALL my responses. This is not a reflection of our relationship, I just have slightly more demanding things going on.

Catch you on the flippity-flip, you Jabronies.

Afterthought

I think it’s a universal feeling. 

It’s disheartening. A blow to your ego. Just when things were picking back up. Just when you thought it was all done with. 

It stuns you; catches you by surprise.

Somewhere within, you have a sinking feeling that you actually kind of knew this could happen. 

Maybe you had the foresight, not so much of the forethought.

Narc at the grocery store

It wasn’t always convenient for me to tag along with my mom to work. I wasn’t a bad kid, but I’ve been told I can be a handful at times. Whatever that means.

One of our neighbors, Ms. Lillian, would offer to babysit during elementary school summers. It wasn’t my first idea of fun, but we made it work. 

On one of our weekly trips to the grocery store, I was passing the time by taking items from our shopping cart and hiding them away. She was gladly playing along.

Eventually, I came across a value pack of gum that was small enough to slide in my pocket. But a butcher behind the deli counter had seen me hide the candy in my cargo pants. I’m pretty sure we locked eyes. Still, I wasn’t trying to steal. I didn’t even like spearmint.

I don’t remember much of what happened after. Except that the butcher grabbed the store security guard and angrily confronted me. He did have a point, the item in my pocket had not been paid for. But also, consider the fact that Ms. Lillian and I were here every Wednesday, we recognized this man. He recognized us too. AND I WAS LIKE 8 YEARS OLD.

Every now and then I think back: I’d really like to try and understand his reasoning. I wonder if he even remembers.

I do.

That guy was a f*cking Narc.