There are days when I long for ignorance. The problem is, you can’t go back to the land of ignorance. You can only remain there. Once you leave your homeland, any attempt to return is willful ignorance, and you actually end up in the land of denial. Both lands can seem blissful, but denial requires more stupidity. 
Do not think that my spiritual life is strewn with roses – that is the flower which I hardly ever find on my way. Quite the contrary, I have more often as my companion “darkness.” And when the night becomes very thick – and it seems to me as if I will end up in hell – then I simply offer myself to Jesus. If He wants me to go there – I am ready – but only under the condition that it really makes Him happy. ~ Mother Teresa
Rage: a vehement desire or passion
Vehement: showing strong feeling; forceful, passionate, or intense
(New Oxford American Dictionary)
The commitment I have to myself is relentless. There’s no one more committed to me than me. Depression and rage prove it. Two sides of a multi-sided coin. I prefer rage. Depression leaves me helpless. Rage gives a false sense of control. I’ll take the illusion…
Denver Bungalow. Looks harmless… until nightfall. That’s when they come out.
Mom and I lived in an old bungalow on York Street, just a few blocks from Washington Park. It was a single-story house with a large front porch, much like the one in the picture. The window above the porch provided the rising sun passage into an otherwise dark, creepy attic.
The house was eerie, like something out of a horror flick. Looking up from the street you could sometimes see a shadowy figure peering out from the attic window.
We were not alone.
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I shut this blog down last August with the intention of doing something grand, beautiful, wonderful! But life smacked me upside the head instead. It’s been a difficult 8 month hiatus. I’ve wanted to write during this time, but writing requires thinking, and thinking has proved too painful. It’s a good thing they make drugs for this sort of thing!
So once again I’m endeavoring to enter the world of deep thought, which is a little scary. Who knows what’s going to leak out of my soul in 1080p HD prose? I do know that I want to steer away from the cultural issues I was writing about last summer. I care more about what’s happening deep within the soul, which ends up working it’s way out into cultural issues anyway.
I notice fear awakening when thinking about diving into dark, confusing soul-waters. I must be onto something. Fear is deadly fuel. It’s time to explore this fear, instead of allowing it to fuel my relentless commitment to numbing pain.
I’ve cleaned out the cobwebs, and removed all the old posts. Some of those prior posts may make their way back in, but I mostly want this blog-resurrection to have new life. But to do that requires embracing some scary stuff…
ART – That transcendent moment when wrenching soul-pangs spill…overflow space-time and lance the deep yearning, groaning, angst-ridden soul of another.
I awoke from a nightmare the other night with the following ART ripping through my chest…
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