Murdering Crows and Lost Boys

April 14, 2015


Heaven is action, living, this very moment the freedom to move in it untethered, and those moments yet to come.

Hell is a waiting room, with no doors, fluorescents that flicker in no disconcernable pattern and really bad muzak.

Hell is also the thoughts that dwell there, in that room. Thinking on everything you’ve ever done or could be doing.

Perdition = could be, should be and was.

Hope = will be.

Biker Body Pillow gently scoffs when I say I am psychic. So is his right. Then he turns around and asks me to tell him what is going to happen. It’s pretty cute.
He says I read the secret codes written into the past like a first language, and I am an empath who can see every side to everything ever and therefore a grand predictor of future behaviour. I’ll take the compliment.

This goes doubly so when I am dealing with his girl, we have the same shoe size and I walked in hers.

I pretty much know what she is going to do, and why.

He is hoping for the best and prepping for the worst.

What’s worse…trying and failing with a chance of victory or just leaving it to rot? Leaving it and wondering.

We trade off, BBP and I.
His pessimism is just realism in a Sunday hat. And I float around like a helium balloon, unwary of sharp corners. He keeps me from banging into things.

Reading the past looking for clues is fine, but I have said before, it’s full of old files that restrict your beliefs on what is possible.

I say, what was…not good enough. I want ecstasies and magic and grandeur. I want actual comfort, I want to BE safe with someone, not just feel it but BE it.

I don’t just read the past, I read the signs. I count crows and follow the stars. I keep my mouth shut when my home planet (Mercury) goes retrograde.
“If it was me reading the signs…I don’t send the Eagles guy whose personal motto is Excelsior to a Giants game.” Silver Linings Playbook

I got so focused on counting the days, waiting for the moon to be in the right place, waiting for the crows to pair up again (for joy) I forgot to live for a while there.

Grandpa: Now, on Wednesdays when the mailman brings the TV Guide sometimes the address label is curled up just a little. You’ll be tempted to tear it off. Don’t. You’ll only wind up rippin’ the cover and I don’t like that. And stay outta here.

Sam: Wait, you have a TV?

Grandpa: No. I just like to read the TV Guide. Read the TV Guide, you don’t need a TV.

Lost Boys

Reading isn’t living. Neither is watching or waiting.
I have brought shame on my ancestors whose love/actions made me into being. They don’t get to live anymore, except through me.

“This life be over soon, heaven lasts always”. The Color Purple

Time to start living.



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  • Cindy April 15, 2015 at 2:56 am

    have you spent your whole life truly just reading, watching or waiting? do you truly believe that? it’s like saying all of your life, up until now, has been nothing. yet, solely from what i’ve read, i feel as though that’s not true. but, it’s not about how i feel. it’s your life, it’s about how you feel. this piece leaves me wondering and also some kind of sad.

  • sexloveandgrace April 19, 2015 at 9:34 pm

    i spend too much time worrying about what might happen and getting trapped in the idea of waiting. i am a prisoner of my superstitions sometimes. like a christian who stays home to avoid sin and forgets to live i guess.
    this blog is about me admitting my fumblings and shortcomings so they are aired out and conquerable

  • Dereko September 30, 2015 at 10:08 pm

    I liked what you wrote. At times, I could not understand you, although your words were very clear. You were speaking in your own tongue, it is good to have one of those. Sometimes the Outside world influences us too deeply, and we forget our own soul.

    There are the pros and cons to living a life of watching and waiting. A complex, personal relationship with yourself and seeing reality in your own vision… but a longing to be known, to be loved. To share your private universe with someone else who appreciates and understands it. Bonding.

    Loneliness leads to many idiosyncrasies. When we are left to ourself, when we are waiting to be rescued, or for the right moment to come along, we fill in the void with imagination. Imagination is power, and shouldn’t be underestimated as mere daydreaming.

    I found this piece of writing because I was looking for an image of crows to draw, and I thought the crows you chose to post here were lovely. Almost silhouettes, there is so little light. And the gnarling, twisting branches are very attracted to me.

    We each live our own life, there is no wrong way to live. Understanding yourself better, through writing and using your imagination, it will make you whole. I sense a longing for companionship in you. Do not worry over it. But do not sit alone and wait for too long, either. The world is ready soon to hear you, to see you. Those who turn away or mock, never you mind.

    • sexloveandgrace October 1, 2015 at 6:12 pm

      thnk you for this. all things i needed to hear.

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