what is this?

When does a boy become a man? when does a man become an old man? when does an old man become like a child again in preparation for what comes next? Who asks these questions and who is supposed to answer? What is this?

like many boy/men of 24 years or so, i am awake at nearly two in the morning wondering when i will get my man card. why don’t i slip into a regular sleeping pattern? why don’t i eat right? why don’t i exercise? why don’t i find a nine to five, a cute wife, a church board to serve on, and a nice pick-up truck to park in my two-car garage?

i suppose the question has always come down to who i am. what i am. do i matter? does this matter? my whole life i’ve been taught to go to God when things don’t make sense. “hit your knees when times get tough and you don’t know what to do.” what the hell does that mean!? for a year now, or maybe more, asking God for help has seemed more like a teenager’s desperately pathetic cry for help. like calling for mommy when i skin my knee, that was great, and perfectly appropriate when we were eight or nine, but we’re supposed to be men now, right? so is God just mommy or daddy for the boys pretending to be men? the girls pretending to be women?

**************************************************

“Josh, push me on my train!”
That was my three-year old sister as Dad pulled our Chevet into the driveway. Always the protective one, Mom had other ideas.

“Don’t push her right now, Josh. Let’s all get inside for now,” she said.

I, on the other hand loved to hear my sister’s laugh, and I knew that pushing her as fast as possible on her little four wheel train would bring that precious sound. So as soon as Mom, Dad, and Kimbre had stepped inside, I ran and grabbed the train and set it down on the sidewalk. Karyn straddled the red, plastic seat while I held tightly to the giant, upside-down U shaped handle affixed to the back.

And for ten seconds, life was perfect. It was evening. It was summer. It was neighborhood grills. It was warm. Green. Gold. Fast.

But like life, the perfection of sidewalks is always temporary, and often far shorter than we are ever prepared for. Karyn’s giggles were screams just that quickly.

“Josh, when I tell you no, I mean for you to listen to me!” scolded Mom.

“I just wanted to help her to have fun though,” I replied.

“Well, that was very nice, but now look at her.”

She was a mess, and so was my stomach. When the front wheels of the train hit a crack in the sidewalk, the train had lurched forward, sending my little sister tumbling over the front. Her mouth was the first to hit the concrete, immediately chipping several of her front teeth. Several even turned black almost immediately.

What if they fall out and she never has teeth to grow in their place, I thought to myself. But I knew Mom and Dad. They always fixed everything. I had fallen chin first into the street once, and had to get five stitches after tripping over my laces. Then, just as now, my mother had warned repeatedly to never run with laces undone. But even after my utter failure to heed her warnings, she got me to a doctor quickly and fixed it all. I knew that my parents could not fail Karyn, because they didn’t ever fail us.

***************************************************************

Ask and Ye shall receive. Somehow, out from all the verses taught to us in Sunday School, this was the one that we absorbed and wore proudly as our banner of ultimate truth. God promised it right here in His Good Book. If we want anything, we only have to ask for it, and it was reinforced by our upbringing in the Entitled States of America. We had so much at our fingertips that we got bored. We tried everything because we could. What else is left?

What else is left?

*****************************************************************

My best friend, Brandon had the newest Nintendo with Legend of Zelda to boot.
My parents had told me that I could go to his birthday party, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep over like all the other guys were. I was so upset. But Mom always loved surprises, and when they dropped me off, they opened the trunk and there were a sleeping bag, and clothes for me to sleep over.

Timmy knew there was no Santa Claus. His dad had told him once. I didn’t believe him, because obviously my parents could have never afforded that BMX that Santa brought me one year. Was this Truth, or cruelty? are they any different?

Illusions are illusions whether they’re pretty or ugly, safe or dangerous. But who’s deciding to wake some of us up from our pretty dreams?

Santa was a glorious dream. Santa was safe. Santa was cookies and milk. Santa was mystery. Santa was Ask and Ye shall receive. But that night, I found teeth in my mother’s jewelry box by accident, and ran crying into the living room clutching the evidence of what was either a serious un-truth, or the tragic death of the Tooth-Fairy.

I was awakened. My gifts had never come from Santa. My quarters had never come from the tooth fairy. My eggs and candy had never come from a giant rabbit. And, though I had known for quite some time that I didn’t come from a stork, it would be years before I even entertained the possibility that I didn’t get answered prayers from a magical version of my Dad, hanging out somewhere above the clouds and space.

But what is God if not a modernized Zeus? Where is God if not above space? Why is God if not to give me comfort when i want or even think i need it? and like a red-faced teenager i screamed:

“God, where are you?” and i whispered “God, i’m so pissed at you.” and i begged “God, why did you let her do this to me?” and i wept “God just let this all be a terrible nightmare that i can wake up from and we’ll be okay. we’ll go on as if none of this ever happened”

i dealt. i bargained. i begged. “she’s the One, God, i know she is.”

but the courage to express my anger with God, and my doubt of His power, was the crack that brought the dam down.

suddenly, and without warning, God had died. or i had. but i’ve grown to realize there’s no difference.

Jesus. Neo. the girl that was the One. Buddha. JFK. Martin Luther King Jr. Dale Earnhardt. Mom and Dad.

they all have one thing in common. we’ve all put our hope, our entire life’s worth, in one of them, or someone just like them. and they’ve all died in some way. and yet every one of them lives on through the impact they had, direct or indirect on those of us that have been left behind.

so what is a boy to do to become a man? trust alone in the man or woman that will die like the others? or might we realize that the God that is left when the god of myth dies, is the same God who gives us life and breath. the God who is the very ground of our being. the God who dwells in us and among us. maybe becoming a man is accepting that spirit into the very center of who we are, and trusting in that alone.

that trust is fear. it’s dark. it’s unknown. it’s beautiful. it’s True.

caps

I Speak in words beginning in capital letters

I Speak

I smell sounds and hear heat.

do you wish wind would walk
hand in hand with the band you could taste
so strong you swore: “i swear.”

I Swear

I taste tempo and see key.

but some days i see straight and smell strength
mistaking those for beauty and vision.

i have vision
i have wisdom
i have truth in all the right places, love in all glass vases,

until it wilts.

but they say it Wilts. and sometimes i believe them. well, never do I.

Never Die

I smell sounds and hear heat.

the twisted reality of an unLoved world is straight lines and stop signs
full minds for all time but not Mine.

I Think

I Learn Love and Live Now.

the changing unchanging nature of God

an old teacher i admire asked:

"But Josh, what has become of the bright eyes I once knew? Are they not now possessed by a darkness, a symbol of saddness?"

"i saw something of the world," i said to him. "What was to me at one time pavement and tightly packed, blackened soil has proven to be only the surface truth. In fact, two-thirds of the earth is covered by constantly shifting waters, and the other third that appears solid is just floating on tectonic plates that inch slowly apart: crashing and catastrophizing."

"But as a whole, the planet has one core," said he in return. "That is never changing."

"...and the earth floats here and there in space, never the same place twice."

"Yet it's held in orbit by gravity."

"Which is weakening as the galaxy, and even the entire universe, and everything we know of anything is expanding into nothing! Where is God in a reality that is always changing?"


and as i asked it, i already knew his reply...

"Perhaps we must look to the only thing that doesn't change. Change itself is the only eternal truth. Change is movement. Movement requires energy, force, inertia."

i continued his thought as if one mind occupied two bodies simultaneously:

"We have pretended that concrete is solid and gravity is ultimate in the same way we pretend our God is. Perhaps instead, God is the force pushing us to escape gravity and fly headfirst into nothingness, and to escape concrete to swim deep in the seas of motion and currents."

"So, if you now see God in reality, why still are your eyes sad?" he asked me.

"i can see all but His face, and His face is all I really need."

"But you have seen His face! It is the face of every child, every loving mother who kisses their forehead, and every loving father who smiles as he dances with them both."


perhaps.

I saw religion everywhere.

i saw it in scientists. i saw it in politicians. i saw it on fashion tv.

i'm ashamed to admit that i watched an episode of "what not to wear."

for the uninitiated, this show is all about two hosts who pick a person to save from fashion eternal damnation. they explain to their guests what they're doing wrong, and how they can choose better clothes.
for instance, "don't wear these short capris because they make you look wider, instead of longer." same for horizantal stripes. stick with the vertical type, and so on.

then, they're sent, along with photos of several sample outfits, to NYC with a $5000 credit card, and a new-found understanding of the glory of fashion.

in this particular episode, they choose a man and his fiance as their congregation. they gave them photos of two sample-outfits apiece, and sent them together to NYC with two $5000 cards.

it began when our "preachers" told the guests that they were going to throw out all of their old clothes, like it or not. then they said "you're going to buy the clothes we want you to buy, and you're going to wear what we want you to."

then it really became obvious when the couple got to New York. they began to bicker and argue over the photos. these were to be images. expressions of fashion, metaphors if you will, but the man was getting angry at his wife because the shirt she wanted to buy had blue-green stripes, not the forest green of the photos. they were completely missing the point that these were examples! descriptions of the real, which is so much more than can be contained in a single photo.

and yet we do that with God, and with our own religion. Christians often focus on one part of the trinity, forgetting that Jesus is the earthly manifestation of God's eternal love and compassion, while the Holy Spirit is the Divine Spark that indwells all of us and gives us life and strength, and God the Father is the Telos, or the final cause, and very Ground of Being itself.

of course, it's not just Christians, but we're some of the very worst offenders. we get so caught up in the image of God, that we completely miss the essence of God. God is ineffable. we cannot say definitively what God is, we can only point. and while many point "over there," or "in there" or wherever they deem the best direction to point, often the congregation can't see past the end of the finger.

"oh, you're pointing at a tree, so God is a tree! come quickly, let us worship trees!"
"oh, you're pointing at a rock, so God is a rock! come quickly, let us worship rocks!"
"oh, you're pointing at science, so God is science! come quickly, let us worship science!"
"oh, you're pointing at a church, so God is a church! come quickly, let us worship a church!"
"oh, you're pointing at a father, so God is a father! come quickly, let us worship a father!"

"oh. you're pointing at yourself, so you are God! come quickly, let us worship this man!"

now that last one sounds familiar. i wonder where i've heard that before.

might we all be missing the "point?"

or maybe we're getting the "point," but missing the "at." what was He really pointing at? what is He pointing at even now? is a man all we have to worship? is your God just a glorified hercules? a modern zeus? or might these "manifestations" actually be the polaroids?

singularity

tornadoes are like a finger of God pointing out the obvious:

who, what, where, when, & why ..... HE IS

tornadoes, like fingers, begin wide at the top,
and spinslide down into a singular point-

reuniting with the infinite plain,
as a finger unites with infinite space

singular points are both singular and plural.
there is a singular point at every point of
yours and mine bodies.

there is one singular point, and
there are infinite singular points.

singularity is individuality.
singularity is infinity.
singularity is unity with infinity.

infinity is both plural and singular.
infinity encompasses
yours and mine bodies.

there are infinte infinities, and
there is one infinity.

infinity is singularity. infinity is infinity.
infinity is unity with singularity +++++++++ and everything

in the midst of dreaming

last night i told you to just->walk-->away--->
but you never listen
you might have saved some heartache but@$%too#many+*distractions;'.?

always stand in the way of all that is ReallyReal


they're all like you, running in circles -
afraid of the freedom found in the moment

so\you\\all\\\keep\\\\building: your\\\\\plans\\\\\\and\\\\\\\your\\\\\\\\planets
picking your power but missing your purpose

{the people around you}

if you can't see the mystery
of dreams all fading into a collision of color and @#$%passion*&!
and love each minute, each breath you are breathing......

i'll keep on praying for you to see Jesusordaddy,ormotherthereasa
just someone still living................................long after dying
'cause in the midst of dreaming

they remembered to live.

for better and worse

i was there when he called you

what a trip to see my own replacement

we are all lakes and rivers, crashing on the banks of others

exchanging salt or drops of water for sand and stones

we have in common

that we are all made of molecules

and we're always trading

here's some of me for some part of you

for better and worse we are connected, with no hope of escape

but i for one have no reservations

i wouldn't take it back if i even had the choice.

we have in common

that we are all made of molecules

and we're always trading

here's some of me for some part of you.

reply to forum on religion

**copied from a discussion at www.noodleheadstudios.com/forum (look under the section entitled "Talk About God" and the header "What do you think?"**

this was my response to the question: "is religion a crutch for the weak minded?" i thought it'd be relevant here as well.

*************************************

i don't know exactly how to answer this, but even as a Christian myself, i am tempted to say yes. perhaps "weak-minded" is too harsh. perhaps not.

the thing is, i believe that everyone is "religious." a politician's religion is probably the government. a business-man's religion is money and wealth. religion is something we sell our lives out to. it often has laws, doctrines, guidlines, partnerships, communities, and warring factions. it often has an equal dose of love and hate (as i suppose all things do, b/c try as you might, you cannot separate those nor any other "polar opposite").

often a "spirit person" as Marcus Borg tags Jesus, has to operate within the arena of popular Religion. i believe that all religions are man-made responses to encounters with the "infinite," "Creator," "God," or whatever label you want to stick "Him" with. it's natural that those who encounter God would want to show others what they learned or experienced, but the problem is that people in positions of power (i.e. governments) have manipulated those symbols, metaphors, rituals, and scriptures to control a public and force them into submission and deny them the use of free, critical thought. need i remind you of the reformation, or the flight of the Puritans from an opressive, religious government?

just as maps are created to help us efficiently move through our geography, the governmental system is a map created to keep us safe from each other. the spiritual or "religious" system is a map designed to keep us safe from ourselves. the business system is a map created to increase wealth and therefore more easily manipulate the governmental or spiritual systems. there are undoubtedly more systems to reference, but these are the three most easily understood. basically, i am suggesting (along with many, many others) that governments, in the interest of power, have taken their laws and attached God's name to them. you see this a great deal in the Bible if you look closely, especially in the old-testament, i.e. Leviticus. also, notice if you will, that the 10 Commandments apparently did not apply to relations between the Israelites and other tribes or nations. it was perfectly allowable for an Israelite to kill, rape, or steal when dealing with tribes that occupied land that they wanted (sounds to me like imperialism). here is perhaps, simply another case of a nation using God's name in vain by attaching it to their own rules, thereby creating a safety net for their people. that nationalistic deity does not match up with the universal God we were all describing in the other thread.

so, in the interest of not letting this get too much longer... i suppose i have to answer yes to the question at hand.

i do believe that religion has been improperly understood for centuries. and has developed, to some degree, into a crutch for many. on the other hand, i believe that at this point in human evolution, it is entirely a necessary construct because it does point to the Creator, and to put it simply, humanity in general is not prepared for a truely universal God, and the freedom that "He" has already offered us.

UGLY = U Gotta Love Yourself

UGLY = U Gotta Love Yourself. that's what an old friend once told me.

the thing is, he was kind of right. in one sense we're all ugly, and i certainly believe that we all need to love ourselves.

to the old, black, drunk woman in Illinois who called my cell phone at random one spring saturday: you said, "hon, you gotta love yourself before you can tell your momma you love her."
although i laughed that night, i think you were far more wise than i gave you credit for.

and to my good friend with whom i discussed existentialism last night: i must respectfully disagree with you (unless i’m merely misunderstanding you). i think existentialism is crucial. especially for a person of faith.

who am i? why am i here? what is this place, and who’s running it?

if i hadn’t asked these questions over a year and a half ago, i’d be dead now.
there are some who are close to me that i fear for.

Ken Wilber cited some other philosopher or religious person (i can’t really recall) in his book “No Boundary” as saying something to the effect of “the way out is the way in (or the way in is the way out maybe, sorry for shoddy paraphrase).”

many of us grew up with the idea that God is somewhere “out there.” in other words, somewhere beyond the limits of time and space there is a being who is just as much a part of the universe as we are. some think “he” made us and then left us, while others think “he” is playing the role of universal puppeteer. think John Cusack in “Being John Malkovich,” which i suppose would make us Malkovich, for everywhere we look, we tend to see ourselves.

so where will God go when we discover that space it limitless? or if we find the end of space and find no puppeteer? earlier Christians faced a similar problem when the earth was found to be spherical instead of flat. no longer could they believe that Heaven was a literal, and physical place just above the clouds, (as it seems in the story of the ascension) with Hell residing underneath our flat, three-tiered earth as John A.T. Robinson calls it in “Honest to God.”

i have yet to see a better description of God than Paul Tillich’s.

Tillich says God is the “ground of our being.”
Jesus of Nazareth is quoted by some as saying “the Kingdom is within you.”
Protestants often say that the way to salvation is to “ask Jesus into your heart.”
Genesis tells us that we were created in the image of the Creator.

every creation very literally carries it’s creator within, wherever it may go.

here’s the point for those of you concerned with pragmatics:

look within. God is already there. to find salvation, you merely have to accept that you have already been saved. therein lies freedom.
and even better, it doesn’t end there → the way out is the way in → to discover your very existence to be eternally, and completely grounded in God is to let go of insecurities (because to despise yourself is to despise that which you are grounded in) → to let go of insecurities is to no longer despair over whether or not people like you → to let go of the pressure of being liked is to be freed to truly love

→ to truly love is to love not because you think you have to in order to get love in return (since Love is already within you), but because Love is who you are.

Love is who you are.

if you want love, go find yourself →

Jesus and Grandpa at the grand ol' opry

originally posted on xanga on Wednesday, June 1, 2005


last saturday i attended the grand ol' opry with my uncle Steve. though i've been in nashville for several years now, it was my first visit to the opry. this being their 80th year, they were performing nothing but classics, and i daresay i actually enjoyed it. maybe i'm getting old, or just developing an appreciation for tradition and history, or maybe both, but i really had a good time.
there was one moment though that i will never forget because i saw God. in order that you might understand it, i must first digress to thursday of that same week, only two nights before the opry.
i was playing a show at dan mcguinness' with my band, ellington. thursdays are great because the food is good and cheap. a number of our close friends were there with us enjoying food, drink, and conversation for a few hours before the show was to begin. i was discussing religion and such with my friend Chris and he said something that i've heard many times before:
"somebody pointed out to me that all other religions are about works, or things that you have to do in order to get to heaven. Christianity is the only one that claims all you need is to believe in Christ and accept His sacrifice to be saved."

this led us to ask the following question: "what the heck does that mean?!"

just "believe?" do you mean to tell me that a very righteous Jew who truely loves all men and seeks God with all of his heart, and lives accordingly will not see heaven, while Hitler himself could merely say the "sinner's prayer" on his deathbed and see God in all His glory seconds later?!
what exactly does it mean to accept Christ's sacrifice? suddenly, for the first time in my life, and here at a bar of all places, it made simple, perfect sense. but before i go any further, another digression is in order.
i have not been ok. for years and years i have just not been ok. i remember being 7 or 8 years old and upon hearing the sunday school teacher explain that we need to be brave enough to go tell people they're going to hell, i would wonder what was wrong with me. why am i not brave enough? i would cry when i was alone and feel terribly guilty.
much more recently, in college i thought that life would be getting better and better. it was taught to me that if i have "accepted" or "believed in" Christ, then i will be filled with peace, joy, love, understanding, etc... but those were nowhere in me. i never once doubted the existence of God. it just made sense to me that He was there, and Christ had to be who He said He was. I truely believed, sort of.
James 2:18-20 says "You believe there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that--and shudder." [NRSV] how long had i lived like that? i believed Christ was God. i believed He had supernatural powers. i believed He was severely pissed when i cussed or mistreated someone, unless they weren't a Christian, then it was clearly ok.
but what of this terminology of "accepting" Christ's sacrifice? that thursday night midst the swearing, drunkeness, cigar smoking, barely dressed women, and a host of other "un-Christian behavior" i accepted Christ for the first time.
let me explain: suppose you and i are sitting together on a park bench while a madman fires an automatic weapon at random. as one bullet streaks in your direction, i manage to dive in front of it, thereby saving your life. i fall into your arms and with my dying breath i say:

"your life is no longer your own, it has been bought with a price. - go live life for both of us. love all people, love life, love yourself, above all else LOVE."

the next day, would you awake like any other? what would your life be after that moment?

the revelation comes in the realization that this very act is The Christ! and that was revealed to me through simple conversation with a close friend.

that saturday night at the opry, as the performers sang country classics, i actually had to fight off tears during one song. it wasn't because it was one of those depressing tales of heartbreak (even though it was a depressing tale of heartbreak), but rather because of who it brought to me.
my Grandfather died just before last Christmas, and confronting his passing had really helped me to understand to a degree, the mortality and immortality that all humans face. i believe that all men live on in a very physical way through their interactions with other men. my Grandfather lives on through my Father, and through him into me, etc... not just through genetics though, for every interaction we have with another human leaves an imprint. memories can be fleeting, but sometimes they can bear much weight, and that night at the opry carried much weight.
i saw a young, lanky man in full country gear. he had the boots, the hat, the button down shirt, the whole package. just as the song of heartbreak kicked into full gear, i could have sworn he looked up to the upper balcony and stared straight into my eyes. it was my Grandfather. he was of course younger than the last time i had seen him, lain out in a casket, but it was him. i smelled him, heard his smokey voice, and the laughter that almost always accompanied him. i felt his rough hands grab my arm to pin me down and give me one of the famous "Grandpa Taylor Dutch rubs."

the man on the stage never actually looked at me.

i had imagined it.
i actually strained very hard to see his face clearly, but that darn hat covered it the entire time.

even still, my Grandfather was there that night, in a very real, physical way, and somehow even in a seemingly supernatural way that i may never understand.

i, therefore cannot believe any different about The Christ. Jesus lived. He embodied The Christ. He knew of, and foretold His impending death. He could have allowed his disciples to fight for Him as Peter wanted to, or He could have fled long before the situation ever got out of hand. instead, He allowed Himself to die, as an ultimate act of His Love, the Divine Love of the One True God.

wether you believe that Christ was fully God and fully man, born of a virgin, performer supernatural miracles and literally, and physically rose from the dead; or He was merely a man like the rest of us, equally divine and equally fallible, and the resurrection is but a symbol, His supreme act of the cross is the same to everyone.

to deny Christ's sacrifice is to tell the dying martyr that his life was meaningless.

to accept Christ's sacrifice is to allow yourself to put down your pride, and self-love, and instead recognize once and for all that "you are not your own, you were bought at a price."

my god

the answer that you're searching for = is already with you.

you're not really still searching, and you never really have been.

you're merely trying to remember what it is you're closing your eyes to.
--------repeatedly--------repeatedly--------


abre los ojos

four leaf clovers

why do i feel trapped? this question has consumed me lately. i get trapped in commited relationships, trapped in my job, my school, my band, my country, my religion, my body, myself. it doesn't end.

this morning i was answered.

i feel trapped because none of it is mine. i am the summation of what's happened TO me, not BECAUSE of me. i thought i was scared of the 9-5 job and the family because i didn't want to participate in the status quo for the sake of the status quo, but that's only part of the truth. the whole truth is that to participate in the status quo for it's own sake, is to allow life to happen to me and for me. in essence: to permit life to enslave me. it's a question of ownership.

why don't i start a business? why don't i book my band a world tour? why don't i find a girl and pursue her? why don't i save my money or just "live below my means" now so that i can get out of my current situation later? it's the strangest paradox that i live for now out of laziness, and yet never enjoy that very same now because i'm too busy looking forward and dreaming empty dreams that are so, because deep down i know i'll never chase them.

chasing is dangerous. chasing = heartbreak and dissapointment 95% of the time. that's a proven fact.

every single thing i have in life is only "mine" because it was given to me. this is a problem. and it's no wonder so many people believe in destiny, or fate, or predestination or whatever you want to call it. i see people living like me everywhere. it's intimidating and scary to go look for the job that would make us happy, so instead we pray for God to provide one for us. then we consider it an answer to that prayer if the next day a man calls and offers us a crummy job. THAT'S NOT GOD. the man on the telephone is not GOD (well he could be, but that's another subject for another day).

i believe God exists. i believe God wants to be known. i believe many, many people (myself included) really have no clue who or what God really is. just like Pi was saying, we make God who we want Him to be. i suppose i want Him to be a welfare system.

or maybe just a little good luck.

what do you want Him to be?

STOP IT

i will if you will.

i am a mother

what is this?
who would ever have known that i could give birth?
particularly to such an unruly child.
running hither and thither with a cold pair of scissors, cutting itty bitty holes from my inside

one day he may find his way out
then my child will turn back, sneer plainly mounted
pointing, and laughing, “look at the fool, bleeding, gasping, yet finally living.”

he’ll tell you
“I am what he was dying to keep on hiding, I am aching and I am growing.
I am your death, and his despair, for love is lethal when denied the air.”

in spite of the wounds, the inevitable end, he’ll bring beauty at long last
he’ll bring truth in the pain of our love, oh in vain
it was we who so bitterly allowed love cast...

...cast hither and thither with a cold pair of scissors, carving canyons from each of our bellies

the deeper

words seem to falter


where wounds will press on


silent and brooding but for a telltale heart


and if i had to choose


this past or some more soothing...


i'd beg for the deeper


the darker


more dangerous one.

hola

hola. welcome to the place you may or may not be at. this site will be a mix of new material and re-published xanga material. please enjoy.