Friday, 16 March 2018


A few brief pieces written during these cold winter mornings...

"Embers Soft Glow"

Winter cold. Crystal lake. 
Mood the same, in the wake.
Footsteps covered by fresh snow.
Fire fades out, embers soft glow.

Trudging through the once lush valley.
Tales of peace told, like ancient memories. 
Songs echo through makeshift cathedrals.
Chils up the spine, threading the needle.

Weaving together a blood-stained sweater.
Awaiting a flame, to truly know better.
Nice ideas don't make much a dwelling.
There's no business in what i'm selling.

Feelings float, fingers cold.
Waiting to fill, the creative mold.


"White Fluffy Branches"

To walk. To travers, To see with your own two eyes the mystery
and simplicity fused together making a spectacle for audiences everywhere.
Arms stretching out like branches, awaiting blood to 
flow through the veins for comfort.
But instead, snow decided to fall which brought comfort with a new complexion. 
The branches coated with what i'd call that white fluffy stuff, or snow, 
but really it's a sort of answer to prayer.

To be in the midst of it all, only then might we see things for what they are.
The audience claps and critiques even though they don't
fully understand the gravity of this white fluffy stuff.
The complexity.
It's subtle whisperings reminding us not matter hard we try,
we are out of control.


"Proton Pump Inhibitors"

Sometimes it is the invisible that have the most powerful effect on us.
A piece of the puzzle tucked away in our naivety and ignorance. 
An underlying cause we never quite considered.
A social gathering with pre-conceived notions going
into it will inevitably turn out how you expect.
But you experience can be separate from the substance itself.

Your believe system and ideas could be contributing to a form of malabsorption.
Where even the nutrients of healthy living are not supporting
your body because there is a blockage.
We've been taught to show caution and exercise beliefs from a young age,
but too of that in one direction of fear or bitterness can limit us to a
weak state of living.


"Not Past Infant Stage"

Masticating and consuming what would best be described as baby formula.
Mash with no taste.
I viewed a futuristic sci-fi film where the humans
ate a gravy-like substance from four separate trays.
Mayby this is what it will come to.
Maybe we're already there.
Maybe we never actually get very far.

The words of caution from our parents don't fully absorb and
we wind up with insecure taste buds.
We don't bother to learn too much and consequently 
we steal lifestyles from our closest neighbor.
We work so hard to not "feel" things and tragically we can be successful.
But when there's no taste, no feel, life loses all substance.
It leaves you waddling and crawling around aimlessly, grabbing
and chewing anything you see because you don't know any better.


Friday, 2 March 2018

Control Nervosa

It's out of our control...

These words pierce through the most weighted measurements and yet don't satisfy our quench for the this substance of knowledge we abuse as power. The numbers of Pi go on into infinity, and still, we simplify it and use it in terms we can work with (3.14). This infinity not graspable, not obtained, not able to be bottled up and stored for the harsh winter months. As Col. Nathan R. Jessep yells at Lt. Daniel Kaffee in A Few Good Men, "You can't handle the truth!". These words might pierce just as the introduction statement tends to if you really stop to reflect upon it. Often times life brings us back to the theme of control. How much we strive for it and keep hitting a wall because we have so little. Control has the appearance of a delectable slice of aged gouda or wedge of brie, and it whispers through the hallways of our rat tunnels, offering a way out of the maze.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't believe in control. Scoffing at others' desperate attempts to hold on to any ounce would be purely hypocritical. Rarely do we access our fullest potential or even understand it unless put through a life-altering situation. The truth is that one could not say with certainty how they would respond to an event if only looking from the outside. Human beings are far too complex and we don't pay our minds enough credit. The layers within in the cranium each have a name and hold a purpose. At the base is our natural instinct which we possess as a means of basic survival. We are capable of full blown imaginations and creations and fantastical things, while at the same time being capable of destruction and violence. I don't believe we can separate the two, saying that some people are bound to be inventors and others are just criminals. No, that's getting off too easy. Each individual's mind has access to a PHD of knowledge with a bachelor's in chaos.

Knowledge and chaos can both be twisted into control, or at least used to create the simulation of control, when in fact the mark itself is never really met. We miss the mark quite often, but not because we have bad aim, it's because we're aiming at the wrong thing. We are focusing on the wrong thing. We hear the whispers of control and it guides us into unspeakable acts, ones of torture and humiliation and anger and revenge. After World War II, young German soldiers were forced by the Allies to remove their own landmines, in an epic display of "power". The various generals in charge went to great lengths to make the soldier's lives a living hell. Humans treating other humans as not human, and for what? The slightest ounce of control? Some skewed belief that we were put in this world to dominate and hold the greatest position? Or maybe we're just interested in a stable position.

In 1971 a Stanford psychologist performed an experiment which aimed to simulate the experience of prison life and how people respond to an institution. The experiment, known as the "The Stanford Prison Experiment", became famous after being shut down prematurely due to things getting out of hand. Twenty-four students were chosen, out of seventy applicants, and were told they would be paid a daily amount to participate in this two week long experiment. Half of them would assume the role as prisoner, while the other half would play the guards. The rules and guidelines were laid out from the beginning, to make sure no one got hurt and that everyone was on the same page, but quickly it became its own beast. The human potential showed its ugly side and unleashed a disturbing six days of chaos, with very little control. Each participant had their own angle with the project. Some of the kids playing guards got so into it that they abused the prisoners, and when pushed into a corner, the 'prisoners' fought back. These kids were thrown into a life-altering situation and the results that followed speak volumes on human nature. That's not to mention the psychologist behind the experiment who let the whole thing take place, even while it slowly got dark. The kids fought for their survival, for their stability, for power, and ultimately for control. Especially once they realized how little control and supervision they had, it escalated into a jungle.

I stated it before, but again, who's to say we wouldn't do the same thing if put in that situation? You can recognize the complexity of this question if it's turned toward your own personal experience. Have you ever been at ends with a co-worker? Have you been in a situation where you felt threatened? Maybe the doctor gave a heart crushing diagnosis. What did you do then? When put in a corner? When pushed to our limits? When faced with a world or an institution looming over us, how have we responded? Have we submitted to the so-called powers at be, or did we fight the system? Did we look to make a name for ourselves? Did we seek control within the confines of captivity? Life threw a curveball, but don't shoot the messenger.

The mark is what we aim for, but there must be an ultimate target. The whispers of control steady my bow. Outwardly i'm at peace unsheathing the bow from my quiver, while inside the soul shivers, and the destination of the bow remains a mystery. My quest for control has time and time again come back with negative results. The truth of the matter is truly something I can't understand. I can't face any words being given to me if i'm not even willing to listen. This life-altering state is the truest form of life itself, and if we can't handle that, we will continue to seek control and aim in the wrong direction. We are capable of so much. I desperately hope I can release myself from such corrupt belief, and embrace freely the truth that...

It's out of our control.

Monday, 5 February 2018

Acknowledgement, Labelism, and Good feelings

Let's get the story straight. The one you tell your friends, the one you tell yourself, and the one you're actually living. How different these three stories can be is altogether shocking and intriguing. But as I've witnessed, our culture is great at putting a name to something or "labeling", so why not put that talent to good use. Our daily existence and everyday actions should not only be noted and acknowledged, but also given a name. This should not bring about stress or anxiety, having to note each detail, in fact much the opposite. For when we really sit down and reflect upon what we're doing, we have a better opportunity to enjoy each piece and experience it more fully. I'm afraid life is missed far too often simply because we do not take note.

The beginning of the day is the best place to start. For me, I awake, and acknowledge the blanket wrapped around me and the light peaking through the window. I especially appreciate the blanket in the winter time, and I don't so much hate the light coming in because that means another day has been offered up to us. Typically one of my first thoughts is "Coffee". My morning routine, as perhaps yours does too, involves a sudden reaction to get on my feet to prepare and consume this oddly addictive liquid. If we're labeling, I'd call it my "good feeling". We have lots of these throughout the day, or at least, we have many small things that will set it off. Do I actually require this beverage to function? No. Granted, it can provide a pick me up, but at the end of the day it's just a really "good feeling".

The day of course continues. I consume food at some point which is of some necessity, but even that is not appreciated as it should be. What i'm eating, how i'm eating it, and where the food came from all play important factors in my response. If someone gives me something to eat, i'm extremely grateful, and thus the food is enhanced. If i'm cold, eating a hot bowl of soup feels like i've made the best decision of my life. If it's natural, from the earth, filled with nutrients and sweetness and protein, my taste buds will have a field day. All of these things come together to provide a more full experience. Even as food is consumed on the run, it is providing necessary energy for me to continue.

It comes down to labeling good feelings, truly knowing them for what they are and what they do, and then understanding the cause and effect of life. Put simply, if one thing happens, then that will trigger a whole domino effect of other events down the line. For instance, you eat something 'off'' and all of a sudden get food poisoning. You will inevitably have a difficult next couple of weeks. One thing happened, and because of it, it caused something else to happen. However, cause and effect should not always have such a negative connotation. Cause and Effect is one of the major governing factors in life, and if recognized, can change your perspective on how you're living.

Take the simple question of "how's your day going?". We ask this question all the time, perhaps just out of habit, or maybe to make a discovery. I think asking how someone's day is going is a fantastic practice, along with asking them specifics about their life. You see, not only are you getting an insight into who they are and what they've done, but you're allowing them to recall and make note of their own experiences. In answering how their day went, it is a beautiful smack in the face reminding them they're alive and that today existed. Sure it could just be another day, filled with the usual stuff, but all this begins to get lost if we don't stop to pinpoint it. People are screaming out silently just wanting others to know they exist, which in a world of billions of people, is all too confusing. It obviously goes deeper and gets into our conscious and soul. We experience things at the core of our being, so we must somehow be in touch with that to access all of our own thoughts and memories. In this way we can fully experience everything.

Experiencing everything might be very overwhelming. But I think we must acknowledge the good and the bad, because there is so much to gain from both. We must acknowledge the joy of traveling with friends just as much as we note our own depression. If we are not open to learn from each experience, our growth will be stunted. David Foster Wallace said that "true freedom means being conscious and aware enough to choose what you pay attention to and to choose how you construct meaning from experience". This belief allows us an open space for which we can not only develop thoughts, but align them where we can gather data and go back to it when necessary to help advance our understanding of the meaning of life.

We take pictures constantly wanting to remember a certain time, or remember how we looked, or to pass on to others. This idea is no different from that. We're taking note of something and whether we physically look back on it or not, it is lodged within our conscious records and will more easily be an event we will remember, one that had significance. One picture could take your mind spiraling into an entire season of your life, it's that powerful. Just as I believe the power of music can jumpstart your emotions and help you get more in touch with the depth of your soul. It must not be downplayed how important all these actions are of taking note. We are experiencing things on a daily basis and if nothing else, let's call things what they are. If it's coffee in the morning, enjoy it for that 'good feeling' and may it enhance your day. It's not always some major life event, it can be small things that together make a profound difference in knowing yourself and what you truly enjoy.

Acknowledgement should extend beyond self. As much as it will help you get in touch with your inner being, it can also help you get in touch with the world and beyond, into the great expanse of mystery and spirituality. Therefore, acknowledging our political climate and the ramifications of passing certain bills, can be just as important. Not just noting the effect it will have on yourself, but understanding the impact globally. Once again reminding ourselves that one action will inevitably lead to another action, and we have a responsibility in all of this chaos. Or at least, after my short period of living, i've come to a belief that we are responsible for our actions and cannot disassociate with the actions of the culture around us. But again, this isn't what I would call a bleak outlook, for if we are truly a part of something larger than ourselves we have the gift of living purposeful lives beyond our own understanding. This is where is can become grey. The unknown, like everything else, should be given the appropriate label. There is much we don't understand and shouldn't pretend to, but at the same time we shouldn't write it off.

Give time and focus for all of these fragments, these segments, moments, experiences, especially parts of life you can't put your finger on. Is this not where beauty and richness is cultivated? Is this not the natural good feelings of life that can't be missed? The speed of life is in direct correlation with your footing, your base, and whether your are constantly taking a step back. Label life as a beautiful mystery, one full of joy and misery, and never-ending experiences. Acknowledge your body, your soul, your surroundings, your progress, and the world outside your window. The sun peaks through the window reminding me once again another day has been offered up.

Monday, 8 January 2018


I was reunited with the old two lane highway that I have come to know and love so well. Maria felt the wind in her hair and just today got one of the most glorious showers ever. Rain isn't a word in the California dictionary you see. We've suffered a great deal, Maria and I, because of this. The air is dry. My nose didn't remember what clean air smelled like. My mouth had the taste of blood. The street cleaning was put off far too often and the dirt of life had been accumulating right along with it. It was time to wash my hands. The truth is, i've been in a dark place for months now, and i'm seeking refuge. I'm eager to once again become healthy and active like a regular human again.

Even as I write this my body and head are having fits. I've been to countless walk-in clinics, taken so many drugs, gotten countless tests, all the while being without insurance and stressing over every little thing. I was terrified and concerned for my health which continued to be in decline with no sign of getting better. It was lonely and scary being in a place where no one had a definitive answer of what was wrong, and just trying to survive. Most days I hoped I could just make it to the end and go to sleep, which was the only space I could find rest. Otherwise, life went by in the most depressing fashion, with nothing to show for except pain and anxiety, and no motivation of any sort remained. I lost interest in just about everything. I cut almost all food and drink and was forced to live on an extremely bland diet mostly consisting of bread. I became weak and tired on a regular basis and ended up pushing myself to a place of malnutrition.

This all happened over the course of a couple of months. I got some simple sickness at the end of September and then nothing was really the same after that. Everything became cloudy and it's hard to say exactly what happened, except for a terrible feeling that was foreign to me. With a whole mix of symptoms including trouble breathing, not being able to eat, dizziness, stomach pain, easily getting cold, and many other issues. Some things were in my head, and some of my responses to my sickness weren't the best, or more so how I tried to remedy it I suppose. I know very little, and I'm continually reminded that I have so much to freaking learn. The simple lesson of something taking TIME, well, that wasn't message I had patience for. As un-productive as these last couple months have felt, I can look back and see many positives that came from the sickness. It was an extreme wake up call, and continues to be so to this day.

Ah yes, this day, as I was saying. It rained today, in Alabama, which is where I surprisingly ended up. Actually, it was a big surprise for my mother who was not made aware of my adventure plans to drive across country to see her. Twenty-Eight hours I banged out in a few days and voila, like magic, I arrived at my destination. Although, I believe I began arriving before I even left. Seeing my family in person was certainly a key factor, but also coming back to being myself, which has been an extremely slow journey. But over the Christmas break I spent much time with a friend of mine who helped bring me back to life and get the blood flowing again. She and I were stuck with nothing to do and no one to be with over the holidays, and so we found refuge in being in the same boat. Because of this, I had quite the memorable Christmas and New Year, even amongst all the sickness and chaos. I moved out of the little one-room apartment and began to clear my head of all the dust.

I can honestly say I feel so much better, but at the same time, not everything has gone back to normal. Maybe it never will, I'm not exactly sure. But what is for sure is that I am more than ever interested in investing in relationships. We must help each other through these times or I believe we will wither away. For me I gained new relationships, but at the same time I began reflecting and appreciating all of the AMAZING friendships and family I already have. Sure they're spread all over the world, but they're there. I feel their love and support in my life on a daily basis. At some moments of complete weakness, someone's voice on the other line was what I needed to hear to keep going. And isn't it that simple sometimes? People just being THERE. We worry about saying the right things and supporting someone, but why not just be present with someone and I believe you can sort the rest out from there. I know I couldn't have survived without the people I have in my life.

As I say this, there are people in far worse conditions than myself, and they are truly withering away. Whether it's a sickness, a loneliness, an addiction, a broken family, or perhaps a lack of food and shelter. We are all silently screaming out in our own way. I just hope we can be more honest with each other for one, and I hope that we can start listening and helping one another. Quite frankly i'm tired of it, of being independent and being a part of a culture that is so disconnected. I don't know how much good our bodies are if we have no heartbeat. Everything slowly ceases to function and what's left is an empty shell. Please, if you're reading this, don't wither away and don't resort to the dark places. I'm here if you want to talk. No one deserves to deal with things completely on their own.

I hope we can open ourselves up more. In this way I believe the pain won't be so severe. The pain will still be there, and I don't believe there is a magical formula for removing that, in fact, it appears to play an important role. But at the same time, we need help, and what a great feeling to be able to lift one another up. To throw away all stereotypes and all the shit and all the superficial crap and the pride and everything else and look someone in the eye and say "I'm here". (I love you)

*please don't freak out over my depressing beginning detailing my difficulties. Things have become much better and i'm in a better place (sounds like I died haha). But seriously, i'm just grateful for all the support and I share this personal story only to provide hope for people and to be more honest about my life struggles.

Sunday, 26 November 2017


My cousin and I decided on an impromptu trip to a farmer's market one morning. We made our way down the staircase, through the hall, and out to the front gate of our apartment building. Luckily, I had scored a park right in front of our apartment on the road. Not in a rush, and checking if street cleaning was happening, we chilled outside by the car for a moment. All of a sudden, we hear the loudest thud, followed by multiple shrieks. All the ruckus appeared to come from our apartment building. We heard it clear as day and quickly turned around to see what happened. A few seconds go by and it's unclear what happened, that is, until a woman comes out the front door and rushes to the side of the building where her son had fallen. The loud thud was the boy falling from the fire escape and onto the concrete landing by our building.

The mother and sister of the boy are a wreck. The mother rushes her son out front, through the gate, to where me and my cousin are standing in shock. She screams out to us in spanish. For that one second you freeze and don't know what to do. My cousin grabs her phone and frantically dials 911. Meanwhile, I rush to the boy and try to help the mother place him to the ground. Blood drips from his head. We place him down in the grass. I must stop the bleeding. I turn to grab my keys and rush back into the apartment, up the stairs, to my room. By chance I had a new roll of paper towels on my desk, which I grabbed and immediately ran back downstairs. Holding this little five year old's head to stop the bleeding was traumatic. The whole situation was traumatic. On the positive, the boy was still conscious, and the ambulance got to us in record time. They did a fantastic job taking care of everything at that point. But seeing a little boy, who barely takes up half the length of the stretcher, screaming out in pain, it's terrifying. I instantly think of my nieces and nephews, and to the future when I myself might have a son.

The medics asked us a few questions, then loaded the boy into the ambulance, and were on their way. Everything happened so fast. It's just segments, blips, little pieces that are collected. My cousin and I walk slowly back into our apartment, to our room, and we take a deep breath. We speak a few words, trying to process what happened, and reassure ourselves that everything will be alright for the little boy. All these little events led us to this big event, which impacted us and removed me from my own head.

Quite often we spend much of our time considering our own life, what is going on with us, and what we are going to do next. I fixate on things about myself and lose all track of the world around me. Just a couple days later from the one incident, I wake up to the smell of fire. A nearby four story apartment building had gone up in flames. Each event draws me a little more outside of myself, and into the reality of what's going on around me. So many important things I should be paying attention to but i'm not. Now I keep hearing sirens everywhere, realizing it could be another fire or another little boy or some other tragic event.

Walking through the plaza where I work, out of nowhere, i'm struck with a thought. What if someone was screaming out for help amongst all these people...would anyone help them? Do we ignore things if they don't make an impact on our own life? Do we care? Do I care? The life of convenience gets a wrench thrown in it when there's pain, and yet, I don't think we can live without it. Pain is a vital part of life. We ARE suffering, presently, and must help one another on a regular basis. Some scars are less visible than others, but everyone has them. This is a learning opportunity! Don't wish away the bad times. We must welcome in the knowledge that comes from heartache.

Only then do we get a grander scope of the world and how things work. This will inevitably lead us to pay more attention, to others, and to the world around us. The physical and metaphysical. We are all witnesses to one big event. I've spent so much of my time closing my eyes, blaming the world for everything, and looking out for myself. I've gotten so comfortable as a so called introvert, who can people watch all day, and safely stay at a distance in my own head. I didn't understand how bad it was until something bad happened in front of me, forcing me to open my eyes and care for somebody else. I pray for that little boy. He is such a special part of this world, and I hope he can experience it fully.

May we all experience the world fully, with pain and joy, laughing and crying, sickness and health. People are crying out all over the world every single day. May we listen. May I listen to my own words and not let them become conceded. I'm so bad at paying attention and focusing, but this at least feels like a small step in the right direction.

Thursday, 16 November 2017

Curtain Call

Enter the haze. Welcome in the characters that have been assigned roles, just like yourself. I know, it appears as if they've already memorized the script. They're in costume and without hesitation follow each cue from the stage manager. You, meanwhile, fumble around with a couple props and can't remember your placement let alone your lines. It's a disaster. You survive another rehearsal, which you consider a major achievement, but it's as if the show never ends. Your memory recounts a curtain opening, but never one closing. This is where we stand.

Her words speak of past scenes that you missed, while you wandered off for a smoke break. An enlightening smoke break which lasted three years. Nevertheless, you acknowledge what has been missed in more ways than one. This bout of improv felt liberating and yet the play continued on, in the background, as a quiet whisper. Experiences in life leave you either turning the volume up or down, or placing everything on mute depending on your circumstances. Our emotions are changing from scene to scene. Too much hope and joy can be placed on the end result, which leads to misguided actions. Don't fool yourself in thinking every single action is misguided though, quite the contrary. It's the lines we forget that will forever be engrained in our minds, but guess what, the actor right next to you screwed up his lines too. This is an ensemble cast in case you forgot.

What if the curtain close was all just a nasty ploy to keep us distracted from holding hands and bowing no matter what. If you listen close you might just hear the subtlest of applause, coming all the way from the cheap seats, landing deep within your soul. You did it. You showed up. Another dress rehearsal and the actors and actresses await that spark, that thrill. Maybe you thought John Lennon was a dreamer, but he just took a step onto the stage, where he felt alive. That opportunity is offered to all of us. The morningtime reminds me of a purpose instilled beyond anything or anyone's control. Something uniting me with the rest of the cast. Maybe it's all in my head. I'm sure you're getting along just fine with your script, turning each page with ease. Although, your crooked smile says otherwise.

You seek out those that are down to Earth. The ones that take a step back and question their role in the performance. The introverts with a hipster lifestyle that has yet to catch on. If only you could have a scene of dialogue with one of them, you might not worry so much about your lines or your upcoming monologue. The window slowly closes as the morning sun disappears and makes way for the moon. You're too fixated on your cue that you'll never understand the reality of freedom within this drama, this comedy, this piece of art we hold up to criticize.

The show must go on. Please don't remain behind the scenes never to showcase your talent. Don't give up, no matter how hard it gets. Enter the haze and remember that morningtime feeling, before anxiety and fear awake, where you experience calm. Only when we join the cast will we find joy, and find our own part. They're not called supporting actors for nothing. This is where we stand....together.

Saturday, 28 October 2017

A Search For God

How on earth have we come to be in this black and white world? How have we lasted this long with a bitter taste in our mouth from all the modified crap served to us? From the government on down we are corrupt and we abuse and we know not what we say. This isn't a new concept or idea, it's the truth that never gets old. Sheer hypocrisy, a spitting of words to form a sentence that comes out as gibberish even to our own ears if we considered it. For a moment, take a moment, and think about the words that come out of your mouth on a daily basis. What are we doing with ourselves? Are we regurgitating words we've heard before? Well sure, we must go off something. The dictionary provides us with a helpful description allowing us to piece things together. What exactly is the meaning of all these words?

 Where are all these questions coming from you might ask? Fair question. At the same time, do you not also become overwhelmed with things or thoughts that have no apparent origin? Perhaps it has been stuck in our subconscious and we didn't realize it, or perhaps there's more players in this game of life than we previously considered. This, my friend, is where the search for God begins. How did I come to this conclusion? Not easily. In fact, it takes a deep sickness to put me in a position where i'm at a loss for words. It takes a skipping of my heartbeat to even consider something so crazy. The status quo comes right from the dictionary and all of our 'clever' catchphrases. Do we speak because we have something to say or to fill the void? Here, the void should not be seen as a morbid idea but one of hope and possibility. Only in this void, in this misstep, in this breath outside of an air-conditioned society do we have a chance at capturing something beautiful.

Beauty described as something that pleases the senses or mind aesthetically. It's my belief though, that words like this are not learned from an educational book, but instead from your loving mother. The flesh and blood of the matter is before us, holding our hand in this filthy mess. Your mother, your experiences, your thoughts; these things all make up this thing we know as life. There's so much more though. Be my guest trying to describe the word pain to a man lying on the sidewalk hiding from the sunlight, clutching his heart, wishing he could be filled with life. We shouldn't act like it's a simple definition, and we must not misunderstand this pain either. Look at a building being constructed and appreciate the endless hours of labor that went into creating something amazing. We too can be amazing if we appreciate THIS labor, this pain, here and now. Tears flow and lights are low as I write these words I desperately want to believe for myself.

Maybe that's what we say on a daily basis, words we aren't sure the validity of but really hope to be true. That's a bit of faith I suppose, a relying on something not clearly defined, a thought that arose from an unknown origin. God is that unknown origin. He is the void. He has already written the sentence that I keep trying to scribble out myself. I speak like I know God, but trust me, I have no idea. In fact, God almost feels like a new concept to me. But of course, like truth, it's nothing new and never gets old. My lonely bones are scraping against these four walls, these definitions, and these pre-packaged lives offered to us. I believe my words mean something. I believe your words mean something. I believe they always have, but sometimes I don't pay merit where merit is due. I don't appreciate the pain or the process of how we take one step to the next.

I must confess i'm an infant. My mother keeps teaching me new words, the most recent being 'prayer'. She said she has half of her city praying for me. And you know what, I believe her. I also believe that I need it. It's not just something nice to say to someone. These are words that go beyond filling the void, they help add color to this black and white world we're trying to survive in. Please hold my hand and don't let go, for I am in desperate need of help. I must confess this post has been written during an extended period of sickness and heavy prescription drug usage, but don't let that taint the message, the process. I ask again, how on earth have we come to be in this black and white world? How do we survive? We seek color and search for God.

*This attempt at making such a profound statement feels feeble, but like a river these words flow and I want them to be true. Take the words knowing they come from someone who knows very little, and someone that is just as lost as the next guy.