Rain Rain, Go Away

Outside it was raining. I traced the dots of precipitation that found their way to the mesh an inch from my window. Their circumferences stretched far past the point of my index finger pressed tight against the inside of the glass. Nowhere is really safe from the rain. The little drops of water and I almost meet, save our boundary, as we both submitted to gravity. These zephyr filled spheres that once danced merrily in billowing white clouds stood evidence that something happened, dirt happened. You see, we don't fall victim to gravity, gravity was always there, we give way to that little piece of dust, the dust we not only asked to enter, the dust we formed our entire existence around. I feel bad for the raindrops because just like us, they never planned to fall.

Come again some other day.

Half Blind We Wrote These Songs on Sheets of Salty Wood

If there was no way into God,
I would never have laid in this grave of a body for so long.

I'll be gone this time tomorrow

And, Christ, when You're ready to come back,
Then I think I'm ready for You to come back;
But if You want to stay wherever exactly it is You are,
That's okay, too...it's, it's really none of my business.

Sailing away from this whore house I sleep in. Away from the thirteen year old sluts that crawl around my carpet in the morning when all reasonable people are still asleep. Away from all the empty Jones soda cans of my room and perfect hockey puck espresso shots of work. Away from those I love and equally those I dislike. Into a bed where I'll sleep alone. From the lake to the ocean. The South to the Caribbean. Fragments

I must confess, I'm glad to see it go.

Peace.

Id never want someone so crass as to want someone like me
But a few legues off the shore I bit a flashing lure
And I assure you, it was not what I expected it to be
I still taste its kiss, that dull hook in my lip
Its a memory as useless as a rod without a reel

The God I Believed In Worked On A Campaign Trail

I know its 3:30 and I shouldn't write because I'll say too much, or make it too emotional, or too simple.

Today my father was talking about the eerie weather and joked about it being the end of the world. My mind saw Jesus sporting a peace sign and a full beard, riding down on a billowing white cloud to save a few and condemn the rest. And while the world was separating in my head I was standing between the two groups, the believers, and the non-believers. The line was drawn but I was straddling it. Sometimes I don't know if God will forgive me for doubting him, for betraying him, for blaming him. They always said in church that I shouldn't have doubts about where Ill end up, but I have no idea. To be honest, I don't even understand what gets you into heaven anymore. I don't think its believing, belief isn't a choice. But they say it isn't actions either. They say its Jesus, but whats going to make Jesus want to take me there with him? I don't understand it, but I really want to.

I'm frustrated with the church because it feels a lot like every time I go to one they either give off the impression of "if you re not here to worship than leave" or they just flat out say it. But that's me half the time. Sometimes I go because I need to see God, sometimes I go because I want to learn, to hear what someone will say. Every church would tell me they want me there, but I have yet to walk into one that acts like they do. I just need to believe that God is better than the reflection in his followers.

I'm not totally sure if this is coherent but its getting late and I need to sleep.