Apocalypse Awakening

We really do live in the most fucked up timeline.

Yesterday, we collectively learned about the current president blowing a former president, and I can’t tell you how scary it’s been to close my eyes. Jesus Fucking Christ. Every day, something new and outrageous. We’re going to nuke Venezuela so we all stop talking about it though so…

What a time to be [MOSTLY] sober, although they want to decriminalize weed so there’s THAT. Guess we’ll be growing more than tomatoes here at R____ Farms.

I think I’m a writer. Not just because I literally write every morning, but because it feels like a reciprocal activity, with the same amount of energy passing from my pen to the page, from the page back to me. Effortless and yet taking energy – converting and transforming, transmuting rage and sorrow and hopelessness and defeat into peace and joy and –

I hate those words. They feel BIBLICAL.

Into what then? Love, courage, vulnerability, or maybe a softening. A deepening, tragedy becoming growth. The root and branch extending a bit further to provide a safe home for the girds.

My rage against religion really has no bounds. I texted B___ yesterday about my deconstruction. Phase I felt like, “I don’t believe it anymore, but it’s fine if you do.” Phase II feels like a desire to watch it all BURN to the FUCKING GROUND [cue metal music in the background.] It’s so bad that I actually HATE it now and I’d love to be the one striking the match. Hypocrisy and corruption are being revealed now though, at every level, and it is burning itself. No need for me to do the cleansing work that Daylight is doing Herself.

Oooh, I heard a new bird and had to grab my phone. A Northern Mockingbird, a contrast from the incessant cheeping of my House Sparrows. I still haven’t befriended the Crows, a task I need to take more seriously as End Times approach. How badass will we be with a Murder of Crows following us through the zombiescape of nuclear fallout?!

And now I hear Rainbow Connection playing in my head, making me yearn for a time that probably wasn’t even real for me, and yet is far more a reality for me than it ever will be for my children. The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

I lost my religion and somehow deepened my spirituality times 1 million. That Abrahamic God is dead, if He ever was alive; and yet there is a sacredness in a Muppet song that I cannot deny.

I wish things were easier, said every person ever.

My heart breaks 1,000 times a day, and I repair it 1,001 times. Does that math “math”? Not really, but it sounds poetic so I’m keeping it.

I’m so loved. It almost hurts to feel it. OK, it DOES hurt. What a strange little being I am, that the thing I want the most, I also run from the most. Imagine all the people who have tried and failed to love me – not for their own ineptitude, but for my inability to receive the gift?

Well, better late than never, said some fuckin’ guy. Better at 45 than 30 seconds from the grave.

The noise-ass Sparrows agree.