sometimes yelling

because I am in pain; in sadness, I want to pray for forgiveness, for happiness
but I am too lethargic to do anything and the pain settles like a fine film on a window pane
prying my sanity and my choiced insanity to bits and I wonder “God, am I a fucking little bitchy dick?”

why is it that I am now shying away from principles and commandments
why is idleness so fucking wicked? Why is it that this world following secular or otherwise
promotes that insanely dolled up plastic crash of impotence but then celebrates like a guffaw
some really non-realistic virility? I can’t stand this dichotomy so competent at incompetency
c’mon God let’s say a coffee and let’s figure this out — why are people so easy on death and so coarse on
living? I mean wasn’t living it up what was hedonism about even though it’s origins were not about just
partying but the urbanite decides hey why not just have a bash after a 9 to 5 coffin shift and just go at it?

God, Oh God, I am blue as a breathless balloon but I want to be blue as the sky, as the waters that surrounds the meadows
and reflects the skies and cushions rocks and leaves and all that nature full off vintage and techno RGB fingerprints — but this
world just pulls up and decides to do a head bang at you listening to disenchanted amateur metal —- I wonder why?

And I know I should be praying, sorry for the pause, but God I am missing You and hope that You write back soon to my heart
and I know You probably are even as I write this down now and maybe, me writing this is You helping me out but I am so tired.
Can you hold me as I fall asleep? I am telling you feeling you next to me will really clear my cranium and soul a little, thanks, much,

Speak yer mind

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