Jesus, Shakespeare and the guy with searching eyes


“The world of madness is a lot bigger than the world of sane.
– Charles Manson –

Perhaps I should make this addendum to my last post. It sucked. It was snarky and childish. But it was adequate for what it said. The sentiment is still true. Except in hindsight I don’t really dig the way I said it. But I ain’t erasing shit. It stands. I mean hey…Even Billy Shakespeare had his off days, I can just imagine him saying “Verily doth the word before sucketh much, alack I have tainted mine quill with such verbosity. I shall prize open another keg of beer and try again for I have a yearning to speak.”…Hey man how do you think he got the inspiration for Falstaff (no I ain’t explaining the humor there, trust me. I made a funny!).

You know people always seem shocked that I am a fan of Shakespeare. And love his stuff. And I even have an active knowledge of his works….I almost named my daughter Cordelia…Damn right I am that cool!

Anyway here’s some stuff I have been thinking about.

The God thing. I’ll sort out. Really alot of my reaction is about dogma, rhetoric and unsurpassed stupidity. I don’t really give a fuck how we came to be, evolution, creationism, a celestial scratch and win ticket. And I don’t give a damn about your Rapture or you prophecy. Geez man, what makes you entitled to know what comes? If there will be an end it will come even if you have highlighted in 4 different colors all the doomsday prophesies you can find.

My loss in faith comes from the fact that right there in the middle of your holy book there is four books that talk about this great life. What he was really holds no relevance, if it does you may have missed the point. See this guy came and he was human, so human. He hurt, he wanted to give up, he got angry and he did what he thought was right. And all he said through it all is “Don’t put so much stock in what is here, but love each other. Make this trip easy for those around you and for God’s sakes people, stop being dicks!”

Unfortunately a club formed around the dude and they have lost the whole damned point. It’s like watching people starve to death while the cooks stand around arguing over the recipe.

Bah! I am a Jesus guy…You Christians can have the rest.

And I have been thinking about the things we say, in throes of passion, orgasm, love, need. Whatever your moment is.

When we promise. When we pledge and when we swear on our names, cross our heart and hope to die.

The promise of I’ll always be there, I will love you, you’ll never be alone no matter how far apart we are.

Then time comes and beats the drum and alone you both go. In that terrible lonely heartache. Does the promise still count? Are they still there? Do they see you and feel you when you lay alone and long for someone to speak, someone to soothe. Are they there in the broken heart they made?

Makes you wonder about the way we speak. Is it the rehearsed lines? Or the lust? But somehow we say these things we don’t keep.

Speaking of heartache.

I got this image of a dying God in my head. It was killed by the dagger and thrust of a broken heart. Here comes the confession. And I don’t know, maybe I am unique, but I have been so sad, so hurt and so lost after losing someone that I start talking to God, because when you’re that fucking spun ain’t no one want to be your friend. And talking to God it comes to making deals “Hey There God, listen if you bring her back I promise I’ll be good and I’ll do the things I’m suppose to” and she never comes back. Then you try to tip the deal, sweeten the holy pot I guess “Hey God, I’ll go to church an I’ll help poor folks and quit my rambling. Just make her call, make the phone ring and let her be sweet and soft again.” But the phone never rings. And you hurt more and the booze don’t cut it down and the numbness is not enough. So you try again “God, take this hurting”. And it never leaves, it gets into your bones and makes your crazy and punch-drunk.

So the idea of God himself starts to get pulled apart. thoughts about the possibility that if there is this loving God, he’d never leave you alone like that. If there was a God maybe he’d come back and tell you why it was the way it is.

The answer never comes.

You eventually grow out the hurt. But it still stings. You hide the hurt and move forward. And it only hurts on certain days of the year at certain hours of the day. Or maybe at certain intersections when you pass by and see the ghost standing there reminding you of what used to be.

You know this stuff all makes me sound so scattered and schizoid. But I am not. Honest Injun! I am nuts, I am at times spacey and I am the animal/machine. But I write this because….Well I don’t totally know. Maybe because I never have anyone around who speaks my language, maybe it’s because when I have tried to speak my truth you earthlings are either doubtful, scolding or without much understanding. I mean come on Bubba, you ever try to shoe horn in a conversation about the nature of love, sex, feathers and the nature of God when there’s talking about the weather and American Idol going on?

Sheesh…Where was I?
Never mind! What I mean is I want to fuck, fight, talk all night, get drunk, watch the world crumble around me, listen to a song that can make me cry, smell the perfume of a woman on my pillow.  Someone (more than one) asked me recently “What are you looking for?” well maybe that’s it. To feel that alive again. To feel it all like I know it can be felt.

Is that too much to ask?

Be well

Advertisements

29 responses

  1. Deb Raynard

    You said it-it’s what we all want, I think, to feel alive again. Hell, I’d be happy with feeling SOMETHING-ANYTHING-somedays. At times, it’s just gets kinda numb down in there. Why is it so difficult to live like we don’t give a shit-like we used to when we was young? It seems so hard to get back to that point.

    February 24, 2010 at 6:06 pm

    • Well then maybe you…and I to a degree …Are approaching it wrong.

      Maybe it’s like taking it like a dare.

      Do it despite the fact it feels like you shouldn’t or can’t.

      Deb you are not numb, maybe jaded, but that’s what life does. Now we gotta beat it at it’s own game.

      Give life the big “OI!!!”

      February 24, 2010 at 6:10 pm

  2. Deb Raynard

    When did I get so timid about life? I don’t even remember it happening? lol

    February 24, 2010 at 6:16 pm

    • I don’t know? Me either…

      Stick with me kid. I’ll having you robbing border towns and running from Mexican Federales…

      We split the pesos 50/50

      February 24, 2010 at 6:17 pm

  3. Deb Raynard

    I’m actually a little afraid of that very thing happening! lol

    February 24, 2010 at 6:18 pm

    • Sticking with me or running from crazed Mexican police?

      February 24, 2010 at 6:19 pm

  4. Deb Raynard

    I think one could lead to another…and I’m too pretty for a Mexican prison.

    February 24, 2010 at 6:21 pm

  5. Deb Raynard

    Simma down now-didn’t say that-just saying to ease up on holding up a 5 11 just yet. A gal’s gotta work up to something like that.

    February 24, 2010 at 6:26 pm

  6. Deb Raynard

    I could probably handle that.

    February 24, 2010 at 6:28 pm

  7. Deb Raynard

    It’s kinda chilly around here-how about a pair of mits?

    February 24, 2010 at 6:30 pm

    • Butt cheeks Deb…Think practical!

      You know this thread has totally destroyed my reputation as a well thought out and erudite fellow to anyone who reads this.

      Thanks Deb! Now I am a naked guy wearing clown shoes with his hands on his butt…You know this never happened to Norman Mailer!

      February 24, 2010 at 6:32 pm

  8. Deb Raynard

    mitts-however the hell you spell it

    February 24, 2010 at 6:31 pm

  9. Deb Raynard

    Woops-my bad! Sometimes I can’t help myself.

    February 24, 2010 at 6:35 pm

  10. Deb Raynard

    Aw shucks-I think I’m blushing. I may also have high blood pressure-not sure.

    February 24, 2010 at 6:38 pm

    • VIOLA! See you are a love…All aflush with love and aliveness!

      You’re welcome.

      February 24, 2010 at 6:39 pm

  11. Deb Raynard

    Thank you so much-this is the most fun I’ve had in a while.

    February 24, 2010 at 6:41 pm

    • You’re welcome.

      Like I said stick close to me…You and me are headed in the same direction.

      I happen to be taking a short bus…But still.

      February 24, 2010 at 6:42 pm

  12. Deb Raynard

    short bus-you drive and I’ll take care of refreshments

    just remember to wear you helmet-it’s safer that way

    February 24, 2010 at 6:44 pm

  13. Debbie

    I think God is whatever you need it to be to get you through the day/night. Energy or love or some dude in a robe sitting on a cloud.

    And I haven’t felt alive in about 2 years and I’m not sure God has anything to do with it. It’s this culture of overstimulation. It’s numbing.

    February 24, 2010 at 8:33 pm

    • You may be right about God.

      And maybe about culture too.

      I’m not ready to give up yet.

      February 24, 2010 at 8:35 pm

  14. “I come that they may have life, and life in full,” right?

    Ima write like you when I grow up.

    February 26, 2010 at 9:52 am

    • Write like…you don’t want to do that. It’s all scary and stuff.

      February 26, 2010 at 7:15 pm

  15. Quoth The Raven

    The tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul. ~William B. Yeats

    April 6, 2010 at 8:06 pm

    • Interesting quote.

      I had to go back and reread the post, but most appropriate.

      April 6, 2010 at 8:10 pm

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s