words of a people aligned in their perfect order
I am St. Juan Grande Pecador in this new life;
unpredictably weeping and loving,
writing poetry and song.
so wantonly tired and worn but not sleeping.
sad that I cannot sleep next to you,
sad that I cannot sleep at all.
I think how I have loved you.
in morning and night,
I think how I love you.
I am St. Juan Grande Pecador
sitting in the sun, contemplating
the vagaries of kitchen table conversation
– Hoc Scripsi
Last night I was awake with the shakes and my skin was crawling off my body revealing a man growing inside.
it’s a beautiful day.
sun light stinging my eyes and I’ve got to repair the umbrella.
I’m an advocate for Lazarus and because of this I have to stop and question the wisdom of Jesus on his actions. At what point did Laz ask to be raised up, like he was. Who would choose this life?
It’s mental health awareness week – you can tell can’t you.
Didn’t Mary ever teach Jesus to ask before just going ahead and fucking with peoples lives or death?
there is a small animal staring at me from about 10 feet away. It looks like a red fox and it is right outside my requirement room near a book shelf that contains our board games. I think it’s fucking with me.
I am aware of mental health. I am also aware of mental unhealth. Mostly I am aware that once I went insane it was blissful (sometimes painful) with periods of awful, glaring stability in-between phases.
that may be an EAP misquote – it’s early and I haven’t been able to sleep but smoke and play some guitar.
K wished me a happy mental awareness week and we both had a good laugh.
the platitudes of willful resemblance 