Posting images and little commentaries on tumblr is truly the literary low road. I have a lot to say, as you know by now, but I am too lazy to say it in words. There are too many key strokes involved. tumblr is road kill and here I stand over it with a fork.
I become obsessed with posting the right images in the right order and soon it has nothing to do with what I am posting but whether or not the color scheme works and there are enough contrasting images: a porn picture against an Anti-Rape Protest…and of course I’ve sneaked in a few Jesus-related pics. Oddly, a few people have reposted them. And there I thought I was a saint among heathens. I’ve reached the point where I am just hording pictures to meet my warped mental requirements like people horded can goods in the 70’s thinking the world was going to end. In my house we ended up with cases of Dinty Moore stew which, because the world did not end, we had to gag down for over a year with never ending sides of wax beans. WHO EATS WAX BEANS???
My tumblr blog should be called Wax Beans.
Tumblr is like a crush on a stranger at a bar: you really like them until it’s closing time and then you feel creepy and are they REALLY worth the effort? Well, they just flickered the lights at tumblr.
There is only one good shot on my whole blog – and of course I shot it a couple of weeks ago: “American Blasphemy” featuring Glenna Mugavero, Daniel Mugavero and a naked baby doll that’s so old when you pull her string it sounds like she is speaking ancient Aramaic with a Mississippi accent.
God bless us all.
Because I am bipolar, I sometimes misread situations with people. Things come out of my mouth that I don’t even believe. It’s not easy to live with that. It’s not constant and I do have medication for when I see it begin to happen but there are situations where “oh, sorry, I was just going through a little phase where I misread people and situations because I have a little paranoia” doesn’t do it. I’ve lost friends over it. I’ve lost what I considered an intimate, albeit unconventional, connection with some guy over it. My family has to tolerate it but I always ask “am I being paranoid?” and they say yes. If I am having a little mood swing where I talk loud and interrupt people I will ask and they will say yes. Someone very close said that mental illness is all concocted and Jesus is the answer. She said mental illness comes from the “other side”, Satan, and Jesus will always win that battle. She doesn’t know what it’s like to not trust your own mind, I believe Jesus will heal me of many things such as the urge to kill myself. But I am not going to stop taking my medication to see if He can make me well mentally. This is a very personal post.
I’d like some pills and Jesus please.
Words are failing me lately. Too much going on to focus on my intent with this blog. And so I have returned to the scene of the crime:
I have had about 5 blogs of varying themes – some I could never speak of here – since 2010. Sometimes, I just like collecting odd photos and posting them so that there is some crooked aesthetic to them. From mannequins to sex to Kate Bush to Ellen Von Unwerth to punk rock to Miles Aldridge. I post, I say nothing.
I’ll be back in a week when that bores me.
This video has always had an impact on me and not because it was one of the greatest songs ever sung by possibly the greatest R&B singer who ever lived….but because they would all be dead in less than 24 hours.
Otis Reading, four of the Bar-Kays (playing back up) and 6 others died December 10, 1967 on the way to a gig after playing THIS gig on December 9th. Watching this video has some sort of weightless, timeless effect on me, like I am unsure of where I am: 2014 or 1967. It’s as if I want to say “Otis! Don’t get on that plane tomorrow afternoon! You’re all going to die!”. They had no idea that this would be the last time they would play, that their last moments were only hours away.
There is a lonely sadness to this video – the kind that washes up on the beach at an hour when everyone is asleep. Otis sang this song December 9, 1967 full on, emotional, sincere…then his light went out in less than a day. We have the gift of this video. And the burden of watching it.
Oh, every single moment carries a story. This story carries fragile humanity and the weight of it. It is absolute but is not mandatory.
“Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and YOU WILL FIND REST FOR YOUR SOULS. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” – Jesus Christ, Book of Matthew Chapter 11
We don’t have to hold on to the weight of our humanness, our anger, our sadness, our worries. We can change our story, our moments, our lives. For us there is time. There is still time.
Otis Reading was only 26 when he died.
Wow am I blessed. I was so afraid of this birthday but it has turned into something I will forever treasure. I had such a great dinner with my best friends the Dussaults and their AWESOME kids(one who is secretly millionaire Bruce Wayne). My Dad and step mom came. So many laughs and my heart was so full. I can’t explain it in words. Thank you Jesus for showing me once again that my anticipation is pointless – it is all Your decision. And the cards!? Beautiful. Emails from people I did not think even cared or remembered. My heart is full.
I will be 50 years old tomorrow. I did not want anyone to know. But this has been such a beautiful experience that I want to tell everyone. Age is not to be feared. There is so much beauty and love in the world. Even if you feel no one loves you and your life is not worth living trust me: IT IS! Just you wait. It will come to you. And if it is taking too long, write to me and we can talk about it.
This is the best birthday I have ever had. Thank you God.
Oh time. You move so fast and the things we think we will accumulate are at your mercy, really.
This is a birthday I do not want to have. It’s a milestone. The kind of birthday for which your boyfriend or husband would plan a great party or even a small one. I imagined when I recovered from my suicide that within the year I would grow spiritually, meet people who are living the way I am, make some new friends and maybe – MAYBE – have a boyfriend. I am 2 for 4.
My family is so broken that they will not even try to pull together to celebrate a birthday that is not only a fucking horrible milestone but more importantly one that I almost did not live to see.
I know the day will pass with phone calls and texts. I will feel unloved. I will spend time sitting in my church so that Jesus will release me from such selfishness. And He will. But I won’t.
I just thought things were going to be different. I forget that I have mental illness. I forget that I auto-immune illnesses that weaken my body and therefore weaken my mind. I am holding onto my spirituality like a child with a “blankey”. I am not 100% and I may never be.
I just thought my life would be different by now.
He doesn’t ask for much in return for the endless gifts and infinite love he offers. I mean he knew Judas had set him up, he knew he was going to suffer a horrible death beginning that night but he sat with his friends – Judas included – and told them how to remember him when he is gone, how to pray him, that He will never leave truly them but rather send One who will fill them with the power of love and knowledge that God is eternal. He forgives us our sins and we only have to forgive others to have that forgiveness.
Yeah I chose to follow this guy. If he could love and forgive Judas, there is no reason he can’t love and forgive any of us. We only have to ask. Many of you don’t believe this, any of it and it’s ok. God bless you all.