Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and like poetry, stories that focus on style over substance run the risk of failing to connect.
Spaceman Blues: a love song, by Brian Francis Slattery. 219 pages, published 2007.
Even in the middle of an emergency, and especially in the middle of a drawn-out slow-rolling emergency, it is incredibly important to interact with one’s support network in ways that bear no relation to that emergency. That reminder of what “normal” is supposed to look like is one of the keys to getting back to that state of normality. Someday.
Every morning I wake, and I ask myself, “What do you desire?”
And I am unable to provide an answer to myself.
And then again, after lunch, my belly full, I ask myself, “What do you desire?”
And again I am unable to provide an answer.
One last time, before sleep claims me, I ask, “What do you desire?”
And again, I am unable to answer.
What is it that so haunts this dusty brain that it cannot answer a question as simple as that?
What’s on my mind, you ask? Well, since you ask….
Proselytizing religious folks. Super-judgy religious types. You want to tell me how to worship? You want to prescribe the rituals and words, the intentions and manners? You want to control how I express my relationship with god?
Why would you want that? Is it the case that you don’t trust your all-knowing, all-powerful god to KNOW effortlessly what is in my heart and in my mind? You fear that I’m doing it all wrong and god won’t know?
You don’t trust the power of god?
You. Don’t trust god?
You?
You, sad little mortal that you are. Dare to pass judgement on how god handles his own affairs.
I won’t go into any further details of the implications of this line of reasoning. If you can’t figure it out, I won’t be able to dumb it down enough for you.
But all the rest of you out there, I wish you could experience the day you deserve. You probably won’t, but I sincerely wish you could.