Falls and Factories

It is utterly impossible to feel a connection with my Creator without the presence of creation. The photo is one of me at Burgess Falls State Park just south of Cookeville, TN, taken last Saturday. The few times I manage to quarantine myself away from the "mankindness" of life, I am rendered heartbroken at the remorseful state my life has become as a direct result of failure to make this important connection.
Life is reaching a critical state for me recently. The ability to continue ignoring the danger signs has been greatly diminished, thus I am forced to take this drastic step of compromise by releasing a portion of my inner turmoil onto this blog. It is an other-people's-opinions-be-damned state I have reached. Oh well...
But with all the trite going on right now, I am dismayed at how little I even noticed the sky, along with its sun, moon, stars, clouds, and mists. Rather, they have been a nuisance: sunshine is no longer the giver of all life on earth, but it is the bright and painful thing that hurts my eyes when I step out of the unspeakable pit I work in at 9:20 a.m. each morning after hours of isolation. The rain is not a replenishing, relaxing language of the sky but it is a potentially life-threatening stalker each morning on the highways of death as I commute the 25+ miles to the place of my ruin. Even the moon at four in the morning is a mocking reminder of nights from my childhood that will never return. The entire point is, that the current state of life is intolerable. Absolutely intolerable. I am out of touch with creation, so it stands to reason I am out of touch with my Creator. On Saturday, I witnessed the dizzying terror of possibly plunging two hundred feet below into a giant, foaming cauldron in the earth and there is no paycheck, benefit, loan repayment, or promotion remotely capable of replacing that feeling.
Damn you, factory life. May you be damned to an everlasting, unquenchable fate in Hell.

Thus Spoke Zooey

In case the reader remains blissfully unawares, I will make the obvious even more obvious. My writing has entered this darker period. It should last a while. But hey...the world needs night as much as day, does it not? Goodnight, my friends and lovers, wherever or whoever you are.

Untitled

A day and a night
My feet were in flight
They kicked up the dust
In a rhythmic lust
The day was laid back
I followed the tracks
The wooden rails' score
Rang: "One, two, three, four..."
I watched as she moved,
Fell under a spell
Not knowing, not seeing
A heaven or hell
I followed the trance
To the end of the score
The day, it's waltz ceased,
And the night took the floor
There was no moonlight
To shine on my track
Onto the sweet railings
Which would lead me back
I heard not her voice,
But echoes of scorn
From backwards and forwards,
Forbade and forewarned
I longed for the daylight
I longed for the trance
I longed for the hope from that
Sinister dance
So think of this man,
Think soft, if you can
His cries are the mark
Of him lost in the dark.

mirror definition

mirror (meer'ur) n. 1. A reflective piece of glass, usually a flat surface. v. 1. To reflect an image. OTHER DEFINITION: 1. A place I looked into this morning and discovered the most useless, self-centered, made-to-be-desposed-of, virile piece of shit humanity has ever conjured up. Origins unknown

A Happy Addendum...

As an addendum to today's blogging, I feel compelled to inform all who read this of my absolute, undying, unrepentant, and sincere loathing and hatred I hold for both the companies I and my wife work for. Am I grateful to have a job? No, I am not. I have earned the right to be bitter about it and sirs and madamses, I must inform you: it feels wonderful.

In Cookeville today

In Cookeville today riding solo...a strange feeling, it is. Double checking some facts on town as I write about it.

A letter...

Ode to a life of music:

This is goodbye. I have loved you my whole life. I learned your deepest secrets, desires, inhibitions, and passions. I gave myself wholly unto your embrace and you embraced me. But it is time to let go. I will always think of you when I strum a chord or hum a melody, but the life I hoped we would have together is no more. An unbearable pain is all that surrounded me when I reached out to you, so likewise, it is in unbearable pain I let you go. For twelve long years, we have spoken proudly of our love for one another in the presence of others, but it has amounted to naught. It hurts too much. I have been driven to teaching others about you when I do not even believe in your power to heal anymore. I ask: why teach what you do not believe? I have been told that when you turn thirty, no one wants to look at you perform. I ask: why perform when no one wants to see you? To play or write anything that does not boldly proclaim the name of Christ is sinful and wrong. So I ask: why blaspheme? There are no easy answers and all I know is that it hurts too much. I let you go, I let you go, I let you go. Maybe we will love again in some other life.

-Andy the boy