At 2:59 a.m., I sit a type out the truth of my life. It is not of any use to anyone but me, but being able to do so helps.

I’m tired. My back has been hurting for the last eighteen or so hours and I am up way too early. I have to work all day and, to be honest, I would call in if I had the option. We are a group of people–most of us–who are reluctant to leave the work load for others at my place of employment. I have a specific job to do and I’ll be there…My mother is not well. I don’t know if she has ever been, but, what is well? How does one properly define the word? I get so sick of hearing her say the same things over and over because of her decisions to not change anything within her now single, edging towards divorced life, while she puffs eagerly on her cigarettes. Sixty-five years and I watch them slip away from her, wondering what day I’ll get the call that she finally couldn’t handle it anymore. It’s always the same talk of being too old to do anything, while the ambitions are also only talked about. Completely helpless. A complete mess.

I have been thinking about the reality of death that has the opportunity to take me–us–out at any given time; a time that most of us never know. My dad has been the catalyst for my imbalanced rollercoaster of thoughts that I have been drinking my way through at times. This life of mine–the up, down, burnout from the hell it causes and always has–gives me nothing more than a desire to shut off and enjoy the music. Music: someone else’s experience with a beautiful ambiance of instrumental talents to beautify the emotional infection…My wife has the autoimmune disease that destroys her bones and tissue. I worry more than her…These ridiculous Christians are starting to make me very sick to my stomach, but unlike other people who lose their faith because of these individuals, I hold onto my faith in the Maker. They are only destroying my faith in them. They are succeeding in furthering my already decayed trust in man. Prophets aren’t real, at least, not that I’ve seen. I’ve only seen others whom are as delusional as them agree that the are. I’m tired of those liars. I’m sick of people believing in things that aren’t true…

God, give me the courage to keep going with your, “people.” Your deranged, delusive, out of control, people. People who are no different than anyone else, really.

3:33 a.m. My coffee is better than most of the things that I have been dwelling on for the last few days. But, that is my reality. Oh, yes, I have many blessings. More than I can count. Probably more than I deserve. I do work hard and enjoy the fruits of my labors. Yet, it lingers: these moments in life when the truth is hard to digest. You have the supposed holy ones who say that I need to do what God…All that I can say to them is, outside looking in, that’s easy for them to say. It’s easy to think that my life is what they perceive it as. What an ignorant piece of advice to give someone another knows little about. That’s a good reason to talk with God (Conscience—seared, or not) before talking to men who claim to know Him so well…3:42. I guess I’ll get moving and go to work early. It helps to help others.

3 thoughts on “Yeah…

  1. Thank you for your raw honesty. I get it, I understand, and I hear you. Your story is important. Keep writing it. God can use it to touch others. The holy ones are really just people hiding behind a mask. They struggle, too, they just are unwilling to admit it. I always enjoy what you write because I can relate in many ways. Thanks for being a voice in the wilderness and offering light and hope to others.

    Liked by 1 person

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