My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

Does she still love me?

I’m cold.

Is she thinking about me?

Why does John Doe say to Detective Somerset, “I know you…” while he’s being arrested?

I have absolutely no business out-living people like Heath Ledger and Brittany Murphy.

Will I get to see her again?

I miss her.

Why am I such a fuck up?

I love her.

Am I going to go out sad, and broken, and lost, like Kurt and Elliott?

I have to give Jimmy his birthday present.

I’m really lonely right now.

Am I going to die today?

If I don’t die, I really want to see her. I really want to hold her close and kiss her slow.

I really wish she was here right now.

I like WordPress 2.9.

Talking to Mary you know you don’t have to shout. She can hear what you’re thinking like you were saying it right out loud.

I’m scared.

Um, tomorrow, yes, I’ll write tomorrow. Though, if the zombies come I won’t be writing anything, but at that point the writing won’t really matter.

I have to say that Negative Creep is probably the most fun song to sing when in a dark mood. The words are garbled, Kurt’s pretty much just screaming into the mic, it doesn’t really tell a story, but it’s just so full of raw energy. I like to sit here sometimes, screaming with Kurt, and sometimes I still expect to feel air move past my lips and hear the voice I hear in my head.

He lays down, cold and alone, a thousand thoughts in his head, and nothing to say. How he got there doesn’t matter. He can’t stay awake. He closes his eyes, and hopes to wake somewhere nice.

This blog needs to be better, just like I need to be better.

I wish I could write one Goddamn fucking decent thing, rather than all this Goddamn fucking nothing.

So, here’s my end of a conversation I had earlier with my friend, Kim. My half of any conversation is generally always written in text. I don’t necessarily capitalize everything properly, but I always try to stick with proper grammar and punctuation.

Kim and I are talking about a lamp she recently gave me, the predicted circumstances of my death, and how my death will affect our pact to marry if we’re still single at forty.

nothing romantic was going on in this room until that lamp. apparently, I needed a boost. :-p It’s the lamp! Perhaps the lamp is like Dumbo and the feather? exactly. like, 22 years ago. face it, we’re old. we’re close. Celeste explained to me today that I’m going to die at 39 when we go to Spain. I’m going to be drunk on sherry and trampled by bulls. after the juice incident, when I was in the icu, she said I didn’t have to worry because bulls are going to kill me. so, today I asked when and how. she says she’s never wrong. so, let’s get married IN Spain, then you get to be a widow. We’re going to be there a week, then I die. We can get married on day 2. Not murdered, just drunk and trampled.

I found some beautiful place to get lost, a place of gorgeous forgetfulness.

So gone, if only for a little while…

I wish I could sleep until life made sense. Though, if I tried that, I suppose I’d never wake up.

I’m not a religious fellow. I’m Catholic enough to believe in Hell, and that I’ll probably go there. God and I aren’t really pals lately. Still, I love talking about religion.

So, Catholics believe in God the Father, God the Son (Jesus) and the Holy Ghost. They’re three separate beings, but they add up to the One True God. Nobody really knows how this is possible, it’s just supposed to be believed. It’s supposed to be taken on faith that They’re separate, but One.

Now, God of the Old Testament was often pretty harsh and vengeful, He fucked over plenty of people. Jesus, His Son, however, was all about love and forgiveness. Jesus, the Prince of Peace. The Holy Ghost is also supposed to be quite loving, very kind. Currently, They’re all said to be in Heaven, Three as One.

I often wonder if just because Jesus loves us perfectly and forever, couldn’t God still be hardcore and fuck us over when He feels like it? Could the One God actually hate us? Of course, He can’t hate us if He doesn’t exist at all.

Personally, I believe in God, but I don’t think He cares one way or another what happens to us. What about you?