faith is a game only lonely men play, so they never really feel alone. they make up their lord and would happily tear it down for a new one. (the new, best one). hypocrisy is what runs the church i know and the pastors the fucking devil. but his congregation doesn’t know it cause they’re all looking down with their head in the pew. i know a woman who sings with her chin up as if god is somewhere in the air, not around her. as if she’s floating up to heaven where its just her and her Jesus, but it’s a lie and im the only one who knows it. cause i’m the only one she’ll tell. one day i thought she fell in love with me, when she looked back while singing, and sang, not to him but me. her chin was still up as if nodding for me to follow but when i came to her feet she looked down. over time i saw she never really cared for me and for all i knew she was nodding to the man behind me. but i couldn’t let up and i never let go. is that really my fault? only god knows. i visit the church but only from time to time and it hasn’t changed. sometimes im scared that im looking at life all wrong. i only see the negative when theres so much good going on. ive been told that life as a realist with a cynical point of view is so much shorter than those who appreciate it for what it is.
i heard a song the other day that said that love was not enough. but i know whoever it was had never loved. or they wouldn’t have said it. it is. and when you lose it, its your entire world. its the walls in your own head being torn down. its the pain and the memories that know no bounds. its the feeling that i wont ever feel again, but still the want. its the hate i have for those who have it. im the one that deserves it all and im the one you should be telling it to. not some lazy schmuck who in the end never really gave a fuck. he keeps you around to cheer him on when he’s down on his luck just to do it again. last time i brought it up you spit in my face and said i didn’t know what i was saying, but i do. i can see and im an unbiased party. no really, please show me your hands every goddamn Sunday morning when you sing to your god (of whatever you make him) and weep for his love and beg for his mercy and thank him for somehow saving you. then go back home to your lonely little house where no one loves you no matter how hard you try to work to be accepted. you’ll never be the same and you’ll never get your fame. go yell in His face, the god you say you love, screaming fuck you. you coward. you don’t own me. you self-righteous bitch i hope your words someday eat you, when you’re laying in bed next to the boy you just had sex with, but he isn’t yours, i hope it kills you.
(have you ever stared a word that youre so familiar with just to notice how funny it looks and how odd it must be to say. the letters seem out of place because youre trying so hard to make it seem that way (without even knowing it) and you feel like youre saying it all wrong. its pronounced with a long ‘i’ not a short one. that’s how it feels to live with you. every thought i think, that ive never even spoken, you imagine and put in my mouth. every move that i make is anticipated when it has nothing to do with me and when you make me do what you see. i cant keep acting like your retarded little puppet. i cant put up with youre changing of the script, minute by minute and i cant keep staying around thinking youll change.) bitch.
i know that ive taken for granted everything that’s been given me. most importantly my wife and the 3 kids that she left me. i never asked to be a father, in fact i wished the exact opposite, but now that i have them (when i think about it) i don’t think id trade them for anything. ive mentioned how i hated my wife and everything that came with her. i used to believe that i wouldn’t get married but i lied to whoever i told that too. it just took me time to understand that frustration is a feeling that we have because we’re human. it doesn’t mean im not in love with the woman i can’t look at and it doesn’t mean that i hate the kid that’s in my room.
i can’t say that im thankful to the god who watches over me because i don’t believe in him, and theres nothing that can change me. why would i trust in a man who ive never even met? and believe that one day he’d come again and save me from this hell? how can a man whos so goddamn merciful pick and choose who he blesses? and how can he deem it necessary to treat me like shit and not look back again. fuck god and his angels, im glad he’s left me alone. its given me time to think and pray enough to know im alone. some days i can mask what im feeling and smile my way through life but today it just hit me. i deserve whatevers coming when i finally run out of time and im glad of it. im not one to say im better than you but ill gladly admit that im worse. im fucked up, yes but i know it, and that’s far more than i can say for you.
Journal (Pt. 2)
its been a long winter but the new year just started and im hoping it brings a new color to the depression of these past few years (or is it months?) last night i was sober for the first time in weeks but i felt drunk because its something im not used to and i don’t think i want to. i may want to kill everything in sight the next morning after that night but its nice to forget for just a few hours all that ive been running from and what all these tears are for.
today i had my first affair, and i think its something i could get used to. sure i had to pay for my pleasure but it’s the first time in forever and the wife is always busy (f*ck her). i had the opportunity to share what ive been feeling no matter if she cared or not. it made me feel better and it’s a happiness i had recently forgot. as she sat there naked staring at me like i should be too, i slowly explained all the hate that has been inside me. and i took it out on her. and i didn’t say sorry, and she didn’t ask me too. i wanted to whisper, i love you, but i don’t think it would’ve been true.
its been 6 months and up until last night id seen her every day. shed replaced my wife and the love of my life and become both of those, or in my head at least. she swallowed all my lies and took all my lines but it doesn’t help me anymore, so i need to keep writing. its strange to me that a book that only i will see is the most helpful piece of wisdom i think i could ever read. and its strange to think that the pain subsides more when i write so i can see it then when i tell someone and try to violently shake it out of me.
i. am. nothing.
i started a fight last night and i got my teeth kicked in. i feel better now, but i think i look like sh*t. and its not how a preacher should be. looking like this, giving gods (whatever i feel like) message, who would listen to me? i cant tell you how much pain i feel when i put on all my robes. theyre heavy and they weigh me down. but im not showing it because they can’t know how it feels. i sit behind the screen in the box and listen to their sins. but theyre so much better than me. and i hate it.
last night i put a hole through my door and i don’t have money to fix it. people think they can peek right through just to see what it is im doing. but i hide, because i don’t want them to see me. you see. i. am. nothing. and you keep me on your finger like a fake f*cking ring. i dont shine, i don’t glisten. and you sure as sh*t aren’t proud of me. i beg you to keep me around but i think you just feel pitty. but its not mine, i mean, i don’t want it. keep it for yourself, you need it more than me. you’ve told me that some you love and some days no. but that’s not love, no matter how much you say it is. so i picked up this pen as i sit in our sin and i dont give a damn. im saying goodbye.
i hate you. and its plain and goddamn simple. i could dress it up with some pretty words but that sentence does it justice. my god once said that he’d always be with us, but i think i stole him from you. or at least that’s what i tried to do. so if your life all of a sudden takes a miserable lonely turn, you’ll know why. and i hope you scream. i hope you cry. im tired feeling like the only one who notices, when im failing, when im trying. and i wish you could look up for a moment to see all of life your missing. but you cant. and i wont watch. ive given my life to serve a religion that i don’t even really believe. why would i also put my faith in a woman that doesn’t f*cking love me. i guess that’s ironic. oh well. i left you some money so you could spend it on yourself, but more furniture and clothes cant hold all your ghosts, i promise. i hope you know.
i imagined that this letter would be longer but now im drunk, so i have nothing left to say.
im sorry. goodbye.
Journal (Pt. 1)
theres no rhyme or reason in love or treason. theres feelings and thats what ive got. but i forgot how to love and only know how to be a traitor and ive betrayed her. this journal is spotty at best, but it helps keep me at rest and it’s the only thing that knows how ive grown. and it’s the only one who ive shown what i know (or what i thought that i did), or all the questions i have, and all the things ive found out, and everything ive come to doubt. god i pray every day and i have plenty to say but im not sure its working, or im not sure im looking. i expect the worst and that’s what i get and its a shock, like its something new or something thats broke. and it hurts just the same.
today it rained. right now life’s simple, but im not sure how long itll last. my head is spinning in time with the movement in yours and it makes no sense. my chords are tangled cause i tried to wrap them myself. and when i was young. back when i thought i was strong. back when i wasn’t being played and the wires from my hands and feet were new. back when i hadn’t yet fallen in love with you.
its still pouring, and i guess its still fitting but today seems so much better. im running out of alcohol and its causing me to worry and to pray that a friend will bring me more. the spirits keeping me going, and at this point keeping me warm. we’ll see how long this lasts. ill keep writing.
today someone knocked on the door and immediately ran away. and it ruined my day cause i needed a smile. its getting towards winter and im getting older and i feel like im starting to go blind. yesterday a friend of mine, whos already lost his mind, walked up in broad daylight to murder a man. and he did, and he doesn’t regret it because he doesn’t know. at least one side doesn’t. and that just doesn’t cut it. he came over last week just to ask for a drink but ive been out for quite some time. i could tell something was wrong, but couldnt say what. and now it all makes sense. i saw him today at the bottom of the lake. the cops blamed it on his brakes, but i know better. because i was friends with him. or with one of him at least.
How I Feel
its autumn now, but only just. and with the cold comes just a little more lust. its hard to say where its coming from (though i know its not from body or touch.). any other year id tell you, this is what i love the most, stuck at home with a fire and a wife but it’s shit. and im fucked. and that’s just life. im stuck, alone. and that’s all that i know. you could say i grew up in this room, but i moved in last year. it has more to do with knowing more and being that much colder (and in pain) then it does with being one year older. its got a little more to do with who ive seen, and who i watched leave then it does growing out of clothes and ripping my sleeve. when i left my home, my dad, drunk as he was, would always tell me. youll love me when you leave. he was right. right now i wish i could just see. and right now i wish he would just kick me. its more at home then ill ever be and it’s the most love i guess ill ever receive. my wife, god bless her rotting soul, was found in the dirt with the car crushing her skirt. lifeless, white and stale. im sure she’s just the same still. and im sure i live the same. she was the love of my life, and i hated her, though i don’t know why. every time i think about her i want to cry. and i do. and i don’t care. the day of her death my neighbor called, interrupting me staring at my desk. how are you? in monotone. they asked. how are you? is such an overwhelming arching question. its scary that youd ask me to tell you and im not sure how to answer. are you asking out of pity or deceit? or do you really care, as you sit there. grinning. my mind is going and i cant catch up to say anything worth repeating so i say, im fine. and keep on running. but i lied. and all this time that i should be running off my mouth im just picturing. im standing in his face, screaming and spitting. and he’s cringing.
im scared. but not of you, you yellow bastard. she always used to say theres never enough time to sleep in a day but she’s doing it right, and i hope im not far behind. and its weighing down my ankles and its ripping off my feet. and every time i try to walk i stumble on myself and have nothing left to catch me. im hopeless because the one that got me through, is done and gone, and now im wrong and theres nothing to do. i dont want to give up what i need to let go. and youre out of your mind if you think itll slow me down. and youre out of your mind if you think itll change me.
im hurting. because theres no harmony and this melody is way too fast. and im not playing it right. the only thing i can think of is the day you were dressed in white (but it feels like it was a dream). and the way the pastor spoke “i do” as if he knew that it would die and how something would come between you and i. but i just remembered that now. i was deaf back then. the lights were swaying with the movement of the wind. and every gust hit me a little harder till we were dancing hand in hand. goddamn i miss that day, and the smile on your face. its strange how life will throw us memories in hopes of kickstarting dreams but it fails. at least for me. but i digress…
im broke and on my ass and ive cussed all my family out, and the only god who loved me, stood me up and ran away. and i don’t blame him, why would he stay? some days i feel they care a little but mostly im afraid, that im worthless and speaking to no one, and writing my journals just to keep me alive. i write them as letters as if someone will read them, and come and take away my children, but its all in my head, and i know it. so till all my life is sorted out and packed away, and all my debts have been paid, and all the pain has decayed, ill behave. but stay the fuck away.
im fine, i said. im fine.
my boots were heavy from the mud id been running in, and no where i could run would ever hid me from him. the neon lights on the run down bar seemed to call to me and i gave in with nothing better to do. the girl who stood there looked so very familiar and the smell of smoke and beer helped me feel. at home. i waited for the spirit to take its hold so i could drown all my fears and get away from here. sometimes i think of all the places i could be but i forget that ill still be stuck with me. in my hotel room is where i finally found God, on the floor with the barrel in my mouth and no one whispering in my ear. ive got my finger on the trigger and im praying.
im not sure why im here or why im kneeling or even talking to the ceiling. it seems all too wrong. but i know, right now theres nothing else to do. nothing left to prove. and right now it doesn’t matter how much i don’t believe in you. this tone is higher then i can hear and i cant understand the note (or is it understood? i don’t know.) either way im uncomfortable with speaking cause my jaw is out of place and you haven’t had time to fix it. im not sure what youre waiting to see but i don’t think youre looking at me. (or can you even see?) im tired of thinking that one day it’ll go my way and one day maybe ill try to stay away, but for now ill keep looking for my bridge. keep looking for something to cure me of my itch. the only thing i know to feel is whatever it is im faking. just like you. exactly like you. o god, you shepherd to the lost. why don’t you find me, and cut me free. ive broken bread and im torn in two, but those i hate you’ve given fruit and you’ve softened their bed. im scared im talking to no one because i don’t hear an answer and nothing i ask for is appearing. and it seems so useless. i cant do the one thing i need to and its eating me whole. and god i don’t think youre f**ked up sense of humor is funny anymore. i know you think i needed a wake up call, but i was just resting not sleeping at all. i wish you could have just left her be, and i wish you could’ve left me to breathe. i wanna know why ive become increasingly aware of all the blinders i have on. and all the walls that ive been writing on. have they been permanently marked or can i erase them and try to find the start? when i die will you leave me there with all i hoped i could’ve done or will you take me and release me from all of myself that ive let down? the next time im afraid of death im gonna scream your name. not in prayer, not in humble adoration but with my teeth slowly grinding. spitting blasphemy from every inch of me. the spirit that i heard you left me with, decided to pack his bags and take his leave. so i killed him. and im just waiting for you. amen.
his porch light shines so bright and it spreads to the end of the world. i threw my horrible love out, and im still out trying to find it. all crumpled and ripped. but in my drunken stomp, i tripped. i think. i think. my eyes are bloodshot and dead, and im shaking god, with fright and fear and dread. how can it feel so right to you?! you devil in god’s robe. you sinner, you don’t belong up there. i screamed with my finger in the air. why can you leave open the door and slam it right in my face, like my pissed of whore? ive lost my name in yours. ive wasted all my time looking for some harmony. ive been praying youd watch over me. but when i die i know ill lose all i built and leave all my guilt. 5 chambers empty, cause one is all ill need. God before i go ive got to tell you something, ive got one thing left to say. please forget me and all i did, i pray. time stops:
all i see is what i knew when younger then. all the faces. all the places. all the living and the dead. thinking back to a conversation i had with my father. that bastard. you see just the day before i saw him beat a kid. he’d stolen liquor. to drown his pain i assume. to try and forget her, whoever she was. i half expected him to pull a gun. at first i cringed as he screamed in agony, but second, i laughed because i knew that it was good. the man looked ruffled and grey, the matching the color of his hair and how he carried on his way. when he spoke, his wisdom outweighed his charm (as he beat that boys head in) he told me of his hidden tattoo of a woman, he said was love, on his arm. its liquor now but its your soul in hell. don’t come back again. i wont forget. i wont forgive. (he’s the devil in this story you see.) when people ask why i chose to preach and how i wanted it to be. my answer is short, and simple, with that story and this creed. (i think?) ill connect the dots like theres no line. ill scream my words like theres no rhyme and ill keep holding on like theres no time, enough to fight what i know is true when im losing all i love and screaming to keep you. and when im pushing forward every single day, with the memories of all ive done in my head and the life its stealing away. i wont breathe. ill like it. and ill act like all these lies im spinning are exactly how im living, and what i believe. and they’ll believe me. thats what i tell them. its been five years. i cant believe it.
back and forth. lets go. back and forth. and only when im lacking life will we stop, stealing His forbidden fruit. my conscious burns with fear for i know what we’re doing is wrong. but it feels so good. and i can taste it. i swear to god, or whoever watches over these, ive found my love in the midst of loss and i wont ever let it go. imagine losing your key to the one thing you need, then on your knees, you find it. in the weeds. id lost my key but it found me, though id thrown it to the wolves. if i had left it hanging in the door would you have gone and opened it on your own. or would you have robbed me of all i own, and all ive grown to love? i have boarded up my windows and barred the doors and holes. for fear that you might come and take me. but i digress. i cannot think of anything or anyone id rather be with in this emotional little dance, we, dance on floors and roofs and clouds and stairs, i guess youll find me way up there. this bedroom reeks of hate and sex id never mix the two but its far too late. i need my fix. our sweat will feed the ground below us till all the plants and trees will flourish. and in this bed we’ll always stay and continue in this way. that way. i can feel you pulling at my soul but f**k’s sake i don’t want it, why not a whore? if that means i wont ever find a home then thank God, for answering my prayer. thank God. He’s doing His job up there. but in the moment when all men would stretch and shed their skin, my sin fell and hit me like a sh*t-ton of bricks. in my chest. on my shoulders. weighing down my heart. tearing me apart, i know, it seems so sad, that i the one who deserves it, and i the one who’s unearthed it, that i the one whos birthed it, in my heart of hearts and my lie of lies has done it with my own eyes. oh mother of this sick, sick child, forgive me for what I’ve done. and forgive the men before me who have already used your only one. in the process of feeling what ive pained to have felt, i forgot all the sin and the cards ive been dealt. but it lasts for a second. and it all comes back so true. after the fact when we’re picking up the pieces it feels so strange to stand there, with our bodies all bare. staring. not knowing what to do. but the minute i leave here im going to church to repent and to pray, and to hope to God that one day he’ll forgive me for what i put you through. forgive me for what i put him through. pray. and that’s all i can do.
i packed my lunch in no real rush. i kissed my wife, i hugged my kids and expressed to them my monotonous love. this day, just as all the rest was sunny f**k and busy as hell. its funny, now that I’m there, that phrase doesn’t really compare. this prison cell climbs up to the sky, to my corner and my goddamn chair. and all i can think about is how i look and the way i did my hair. the whip is cracking and my back is bleeding, but really that’s just the sweat. it’s the little things that make me mad and i swear ill throw him through his desk. it seemed for a second that time stopped and someone’s pen dropped. then i heard the scream. one by one we all chimed in till it sounded too much like a choir. the thing that promised would take us safe was coming for our lives. the impact of the crashing plane was easy to survive, but the minute it hit i know it was all on our minds. this building that stands so high, its gonna burn and we’re all gonna die. oh god, if youre up there? i wonder if i fly from this hell, would you help and give me wings? i have things to say to my wife, son and daughter, you can’t keep me in this slaughter! oh if this is how im going to die, i pray you hear me out. and at the end ill tell you when im ready to go, you can call me if you want. and when im burning in hell, i pray you take their pain away and cast it on my head instead. oh son im not the man i should be so don’t strive to be like me. there’s stronger men and they’re all around you. you’ll find one, just keep looking. daughter i love you i swear that’s why i did it. i know you hate me for withholding things you wanted but i promise. i promise. i love you. darling, oh god i have seconds to live but a lifetime of words i didn’t speak. some days words just slipped out and i let loose my anger and spoke out. but i think, i believe, i know, that i love you. and when im looking up, screaming your name, that burning in your ears wont be the backstabbing words of the neighbor but my painful cries for you. theres nothing i can do to show you what i mean what i say it but i hope to god he heard me, and leaves you at peace. and leaves you alone. or ill pray fire on his throne.