26 02 2011

These are all the words that are thrilling me this evening. Some of them are my own, most are not.

Guys, listen.

Sometimes the earth shakes and people fall and it doesn’t seem right to have sunshine on those days.

I want to cover myself in filth and shit. Not to mention, there is something enchanting about the silky curvature of a woman’s neck. Maybe I’m tired of not letting voices of kindness and truth tag team against condemnation while the voice of joy distracts the referee. You can even let your shoulders touch their shoulders if they say it’s ok! There’s a word for someone who has a new mini crisis every day, but then, magically, a new lesson is learned and they walk away a better and more inspirational person. I want to throw my weakness at the world. That word is liar. I know that your hands have never known a woman, and this is not your chance, but it’s close! My plans for this evening included much more exciting company than my journal and a beer. I’m beginning to embrace the differences between loneliness and solitude. I cannot wait to find God in precisely those places I have been told He has long ago forsaken. I remember what it looks like to see the razor and choose to deny myself the one guarantee to feel something, anything at all. I am proud of that decision. And for once, maybe I’m tired of letting the things I feel like I deserve and should get, prevent me from going and giving those things to others.  All I need for you to do is stand there, smile, and let the women steal the photograph. It feels like stepping into life. Free of charge.

In the utensil drawer of life, aren’t we all just looking for a little spoon?




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