[I always feel a sense of the absurd seeing a Presidential motorcade with the reams of security surrounding it in every direction. So many people willing to give their life to save that one person. Is that one life really more valuable than the next? How much longer will the illusion of kings last? In the real world, every life matters. In the false, inverted world we have now we've yet to realize the value and need of every soul. There can be no future until we face the fact every life deserves a motorcade of security.
Fallen under an evening park bench I found these pages ripped from a small notebook. My guess is the author uses that notebook in an attempt to hold on to what's left of his sanity. I would kill to see his daily musings, the observations of a man abandoned on the streets. I also know there are many who would literally kill not to read it - including whichever President is in power at the time. A person who hungers for the words of the rejected and the homeless can never be elected.
These are the words of a man obviously in pain, struggling against the world, himself and even life itself at certain points. His thoughts are an SOS to the world never to be heard. An inverted world is like a man holding a great weight over his head. One day his strength must give out. On that day we'll realize the gifts we've rejected over the ages, of words of warning and words of love holding true.]
Dear God,
Please make up your mind. Do you want me to have a soul or have money? The pursuit of either leads to death. So where is life? Am I to raise a family without money - or without a soul? I see neither having a future.
Who am I to fix this world? No one person can do that. And yet that obligation is on me if I am to survive. The knowledge of how to do this is beyond me. You must expect me to be Jesus and grab endless food from a basket. I guess I can't complain if that's where you set the bar but expect a lot of dead people in the end.
My health fades with every passing day. Blessed are the rich for they will receive healthcare. All you do God is dogpile on the downtrodden and oppressed. You say you'll provide for us as You do the free birds. Maybe someday, but not today. No bird is free who has to punch a time clock.
There is no place for me in this world. Reality is there's no place for anyone but that's a lesson yet to be learned. In the meantime, we are dying and dying to live. The numbers grow larger each passing day. We're trapped yet hate the most the man who throws off his chains.
Monsters of the world keep getting stronger. Holy hypocrites, anarchist capitalists, saboteurs of saints. In money we trust, in war we hope, in lies we have faith. I cannot do what they ask. You made me wrong, God.
You're a hard man, God. Real fucking hard. You're like the others. All you do is take. Everybody has their goddam hand in your pocket. I have nothing left, nowhere to go, nothing to construct. My mind is collapsing into a void, a complete blank. I hope this makes you happy.
Assassins and blackmailers gloat at the top, corporate pimps and whores in constant parade, snake oil slicksters own the airwaves. I am surrounded. Why have you made freedom from them a sin, God? Why do you punish those who give? Why are the weeds rewarded as the flowers?
I have a song in my heart I cannot sing. The notes will not leave the safety of my throat. For this the liars call me a liar and the destroyers call me a destroyer, and I am unable to retort. I am painted by their brush then mocked in daily scorn for the image they create. But we know the truth, don't we, God? Both of us are silent.
Both the atheist and theist are right. There's a God on heaven but only as much God as we let in here - and that is almost none. Those who practice love are the first to perish. You say one day when the time is right they will be avenged. But You also say to live for today. I would love to live for today: that means the end of the world.
It is written You were angry and displeased when Jesus died. Well, welcome to the world. Have you ever been homeless, to live in constant fear? Have you ever been injured on the job as a desperate immigrant only to be thrown out in the street broken and unable to fend for yourself? Do you know what it's like to be crucified and not have it mean anything? Everyone gets the shaft here. Somehow I suspect that was not the plan.
I don't know what to do with my aimless life. I'm all out of guesses and directions to take. I simply sit here under the sun as a life form despised by the universe. You claim you want me to live, God, but do nothing about it. These assholes here don't want me to live and they damn sure do something about that. More every fucking day.
I have no energy left for the pretend answers they feed me. Fade to black. God always wins. We always lose. If only God were a dreamer.
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