Stream of consciousness
Wednesday 28 May 2008
I am listening to a new CD. You have to choose your moment to break in a new CD. There is a certain tedium about the chore of the first 5 or 6 listens, before the songs really start to reveal something of their core. It's a chore, but it has to be done. Has anyone noticed that there are less spiders around than there used to be? Sometimes I wonder if it's all the electromagnetic stuff we fly through our air, from our phones, our wireless internet connections. Maybe it fucks with their heads and they've all congregated in somewhere else, like public toilets or everyone's garages. If we knew that we were killing off the spiders with our mobile phones and our wireless internet connections, would we get rid of them? It's been an entire year since I have written a story. A year. That is a long time, isn't it. I know I will again. I know it in the same space that knows things without words, the repository of the best stuff that God puts in me and lets me walk around with, with no way of knowing how they will come to fruition. Not knowing is a really good thing. I wish I knew how long it would take to write another story. I feel hopeful again this week. Hope is one of my favourite things. Hope opens it all up, baby, makes streams in the desert. I have missed you, Hope. Hope. I went through a period of taping Days of Our Lives to watch when I came home from work. It was Andrea's fault. She got me onto it. I was in love with Bo and Hope. Well, Bo, really. I am so bored with my job, but it's bearable. I need to work more hours but I'm scared if I do it will become unbearable. But still, the bullets needs to be bitten. What I really want is for someone to offer me a job out of the blue so I don't have to search for it, a job that involves writing with a bit of clown work on the side. My job is still meditative at times and still boring all the time, but it's a job and I spose I could be working down the mines. Or as a prostitute. Which sounds appealing for one second until I think of, like, not being able to pick your clientele. So yeah. My landlord is getting married. He is moving out in a month's time, renting out the house, so he and his lovely chicky babe can live together full time. Good for them. I am very happy for them. Selfishly, I am annoyed that now I shall have to get my own internet connection, which ups my bills another 25 bucks a month. Me, I'm getting a divorce soon. Well, sometime soonish. At some point in the future when Mocca might be needing it. I hope I get an invite to his wedding whenever that happens. How weird. I could go a joint right now, but that's only because I don't want to do the hard work of heading back into creativity, and being scared in it. If I smoke a joint I get all the headrushy goodness and none of the effort. In fact, I get nothing. It's such a side waste, such a fruitless pouring of all my creativity into a side street that ends in a big ditch. Blerty blerty to you, cannabis sativa. But still, if you were here right now I would suck you down into my lungs and kick back and listen to this Bruce Cockburn. But I can do that anyway, right? Sometimes I pretend that I've just taken a drag of a joint and try and fool my brain into thinking that it's stoned. Sometimes it almost half works. I was thinking before about maybe I'm an addictive personality because I always need to fall into something other than reality. But then I thought, that is the spirit in me that wants to fall into God. It's not an escape from reality, it's a falling into reality, and I can do it in lots of different ways (even smoking a joint, but everything is permissible but not everything beneficial). I want to make a beaded curtain for my playroom one day. I want to start knitting again, the jumper that I began in 1994 and am more than halfway through. But I don't want to start that jumper 'cause I'm scared I'm not gonna fit into it :) Everything is gonna be alright. Really. Even with all the dark and bad and suffering, everything is gonna be alright. Because God is. And he is committed to our growth, even when we can't see it and even when it's really dark and even when we can't see him or feel him or see any growth or way forward. That's 'cause he's God and we're not. Sorry about that. But really, it's better this way. You'll see.
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