I just wanted to let you know
I talked to God last night.
He didn’t say much,
And neither did I.
But what words we did say
Gave me such small hope,
That even a twice prodigal son
Can still find a way home.
twicemore like seventy times seven
but dang this is good
Unka Glen Fitzjerrell on episode 125 of Say That
- Greed: I want shit
- Envy: I want your shit
- Wrath: I'm going to wreck your shit
- Lust: I'm into some freaky shit
- Gluttony: This is some tasty shit
- Sloth: I don't feel like doing shit
- Pride: I am the shit
Cold. Sometimes, it doesn’t even feel like an emotion. Emotions are things. Feeling nothing is also a feeling, compared to this. This… this is emptiness. The antifeeling of lostness, of wandering, as if somehow, I’ve been detached from everything around me and I’m now independent from the world around me, my breaths crystallizing in my mouth, as the world moves on without me. It’s the feeling of loneliness, as if hit by the sudden realization that no one will ever understand me, not entirely, and the perhaps-existential crisis that arises from knowing that no one really knows me, and no one ever will.
It’s the vacuum in my chest, perhaps, that wants me to place my lips against another’s - any other’s - as if by sucking the life out of their chest I can bring life to my own. Or to cuddle with another, to spoon as if increasing the amount of surface area contact will increase heat transfer, and with every beat of their heart they might stop my from freezing within myself. But propriety stops me from trying.
And sometimes, things spiral from there. With the blank screen in front of me I search for some kind of contact, as if by moving from analog to digital means I could possibly conjure some form of human interaction - seeking through electromagnetic means to bring some form of interaction - as if through one fundamental force I could invoke a more complex interaction - one that fills the void within me. As if hours in front of a cathode ray tube might somehow bring light to the darkness that longs for comfort, for intimacy, for revelation of self.
And it’s into the darkness that God speaks.
Let there be light.
It’s into the frozen wasteland that is my heart that God says,
Let there be life.
And as my digits warm to his breath, I hear his voice in the breeze.
All along, you’ve been searching for me. When you were looking for companionship, you were looking for me. While you were seeking intimacy, you were seeking me. When you sought someone to know you and love you - all that time, you sought me.
I want to give you more than you could desire.
Will you let me?
I lied. I’m writing today.
I will get back to writing soon.