Wednesday February 17, 2016
from a YouTube comment by GB3770
I pray at the church of kindness, I can’t settle for anything less than that as my temple. I don’t believe in a God that won’t invite us all to play, that condemns for ignorance, that promotes the weak and bludgeons the strong. I don’t believe in a God that withholds, that accepts money as the only currency, that won’t forgive us for very arbitrary, yet non-negotiable acts. I bow my head at the alter of generosity. It’s the only home I ever feel safe enough to lower my shield in. It’s the only thing that moves me to a state of rejoicing. Don’t give me that hearsay scripture, that haunting, beautifully crafted by poets rule book. I worship at the church of soul music. The kind that lifts your skin off your bones just enough to make room for grace.
Tuesday June 4, 2013
From a Target billboard on College
She had on a fringed leather jacket that she swore to herself she’d never ever wear. A lot of things were like that for her. She also said she’d never try those pointy witch shoes but they became popular and then she wore those too. Her worst fear was losing herself, completely cognizant of how much of a sell out she was becoming with each new thing she’d said she’d never do or eat or feel. She remembers telling JoJo that she wouldn’t be caught dead doing PDA and if she ever did to legitimately shoot her. Not dead, just in the foot or something so she would have to feel the punishment of being a hypocrite. We’re all hypocrites, JoJo told her. But she wasn’t in the mood for sympathy. She wanted to hide her newly tattooed arm under long sleeves until she could scrape up enough confidence to wear the thing out loud, in public. It was a personal tattoo. She had gotten it for her father when he passed away and it reminded her of how loved she was by that man. More by him than any other human she’d ever met. But for some reason it wasn’t right to show. JoJo hadn’t even seen it yet.