How Not To Pray

There are certain times in a persons life, and I happen to know this for a fact; that every person in the Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindi, Taoist, Shinto or even the “believers”, “followers”….

There are times when we all feel a need to pray…to somebody or something.

The overwhelming, not quite cognizant drive to fall to your knees and do…something, ANYTHING!

wpid-1421193207412.jpg

Despite what we have all been led to believe by other “learned” men/women on our blue marble, there are no rules stating that said prayers have to be about thanks, grief, vanity, money or whatever….suggestions, but as far as I know, the Lord’s Prayer in the Christian Bible, is the only one with rules on how a prayer must be done.

You know… Official like….

But, the rule that is non-negotiable or maybe just expected, is that you DO have to report in every now and again; rip your insecurities out, spill your heart on the floor, yell, scream, whisper, cry, laugh, beg for a horrific end to your mother in law……while on your knees; penitent.

Broken heart, contrite spirit.

Oh, the other rule….

Don’t be lazy if you can help it.

Knees are preferred…

This happened to me a few minutes ago.

I’m in a shower at the a truck stop; dripping wet, shaving cream on my face and Heavenly Father wants to talk.

So….we talked.

No choice, really.

Let me step back…and PONTIFICATE.

We follow the Bible and its teachings for a while, right?

Then we started to really get into worshipping it and wanted everyone else on the planet to feel our joy and love; so we went on crusades and missions and wars; righteously killing millions of heretics, pagans, witches, infidels, musselmen and assorted other Moors, Catholics, Protestants, Mormons and about 82 Branch Davidians….that the government, which was based constitutionally on these same biblical Christian values, didn’t like very much.

I wonder if the kids screamed while they burned….

And the list goes on; even today.

I don’t believe we’re as civilized as we profess to be, really….

But, I digress and I apologize.

I’m having my usual pessimistic outlook on life during this joyous season and I guess the Lord noticed, because I’ve been behaving badly and been kind of an a-hole, lately.

So, like I stated earlier in this post, God drove me to my knees in this truck stop shower; somewhere in Oklahoma. Dripping wet, shaving cream on my face, naked as a Buddha and Heavenly Father decides he wants to talk to me.

Well, I suspect now, in hindsight and reflection; that’s what we’re supposed to do after we pray…reflect; so, I’m freaking reflecting!

wp-1449415567889.png

So, in this reflection, I think he was tired of seeing me mope around, thinking crummy thoughts, not seeing good in anything; basically being a pill and an a-hole, as stated before and possibly witnessed by many, including my very own self.

Isn’t it terrible when you realize you’re being an a-hole and don’t care?

You just want to hurt and be rude and judge and hypocrite…..more stuff; until everyone else gets butthurt and turns into an a-hole too, and joins my little pity party!?

Anywhos…

As I stared into the fogged up mirror; shaving cream on my face, razor held up by my right cheek, barely able to see my big, fat pink body in the mirror, except for the little spot I had cleared with the razor free hand and was presently fixated on.

wpid-img_12463873886964-picsay.jpeg

I heard a still small voice and I recognized it for who it was.

I made the “What was that face?” for effect.

Thats when an urge fell over me, I can’t explain it.

I put down the razor, spread a towel on the floor; because its still a truck stop shower, I’m not crazy…and I knelt.

And I bowed my head before I spoke to the God of us all.

I bent my head in reverance to the celestial being that allows us to exist despite being a horrendous horde of ungrateful, destructive pieces of crap that occassionally celebrate a good deed WHEN IT SHOULD BE A NORMAL UNCELEBRATED THING TO DO A GOOD DEED AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER, LIKE WE WERE SUPPOSED TO FROM THE FREAKING BEGINNING!!!!!

“Dear Heavenly Father’ I said

“I thank you for everything that you have given, have taken away and for prayers that have been and have not been answered, thy will be done.

(OK, I got the initial disclaimer stuff out of the way.

I picture God sitting on a cloud somewhere looking at his fingernails making the “Come on, come on, I don’t have all day” hand motion.

Even though I know he has forever but, hey….

I am only a man.

One of billions…..but there you go.

Well, this man (meaning me) talks to God as if though God were a man.

“I am sorry I say the same thing over and over but, I don’t mean to but, you already know this”

‘I just find it hard to get into myself and tell you things I know you already know, seems redundant and unecessary”

*sigh*

“Is it a confession you want or am I’m doing this wrong? Why am I telling you things you already know? Why am I confessing things to you when you already know them? Does it make a difference on judgement day?”

Is it for forms sake?

*smh*

[*Heres where I slip back into repetetive dribble, which the bible expressly frowns upon]

“I thank you for my wife and kids, please protect them and help them to make good decisions and be good people and do nice things”

10670270_347409812087093_482638345951863755_n

“I thank you for my job and I thank you for being reasonably healthy”

[Hesitation here because I realize that God has heard this all before, again.]

Blah blah blah…

It just became personal.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Lord”

[Here I look up at the ceiling, clasping my fingers tighter; I’m getting frustrated]

“What am I supposed to say, that I’m sorry, over and over?!”

How long do I have to apologize for being human!?

That I’m a piece of crap and I can’t do anything right and I’m sick and tired of everything?!

What am I supposed to say to you, when you know everything I’m saying or thinking and I still don’t hear poop from you, or at least I don’t think you’re saying anything back !?

[I stand up, turn my back to the steamy mirror, looking at another part of the ceiling; I throw my hands up but don’t say anything, I’m too old for this mess!!!]

[Moments reflection]

download

[I turn back to the towel on the floor, kneel back down, slowly shaking my head]

This is stupid….

“Thank you, Lord, for everything.

I’m doing a lot better than most and everythings not too bad.”

“I’m still a little nervous about thy will be done because I hate surprises but, I know, well, I HOPE that you have plans for me, regardless of what they are.”

“I’m sorry that I’ve been an a-hole lately and been kind of a pill to the Honey Biscuit and messing up her month with my OCD crap but, I try not to let my moods show too much.”

*sigh*

“The cool part about you is that you are the only one that truly knows me.

AND despite what others have witnessed and drawn their conclusions from, some well founded I must admit; you know that I am a good man, with a good heart that only wants super powers so I can save the world.”

“I know I’ve screwed up sometimes. Thank God for repentance; oh, I meant thank you”

*ironic chuckle* He knows what I meant.

Silly rabbit.

“I’m sorry, you know how I get.

” Thanks again for letting me live this long even though I’ve almost killed myself several times and oh, btw, I have no idea why you let me live this long.

To see what I’ll do next probably….

That’s just, mean.

“Thanks for letting me see the things I’ve seen, meeting the people I’ve met and letting me believe that I ain’t as bad as I tell myself that I am”

“Dear Father”

“Help make me a better man. Help me do something to make a difference. Help me to be more patient and a loving Husband and Father. Help me to be a gooder man.”

“Dear Heavenly Father”

download

“Help me to be more humble and long suffering.”

[This is when I realize I’m being all biblical sounding, again]

repetition….breeds scripture abuse.

[I lower my now dry forehead to my clasp hands and squeeze my fingers harder, really serious part coming up]

“Father”

“Help me be the man we know I can be, thy will be done. I trust you”

“In the name of your son, Jesus Christ…….Amen”

[I stand and turn back to the mirror which is steamy again because the shower is still going and the faucet is running full blast….]

[I wipe a clear spot on the mirror and look at myself]

I hear the still small voice again…..

wpid-business-man-blank-sign-11-vector-104ggur52892-picsay.jpeg

“Peace, Trey.”

I talked To God today, in a truck stop shower and he answered me….

Oh, From me and God…

Be real.

Consistently Loopy

Wow….

I’m telling you what….

If you don’t post everyday or drop a line or opinion everyday, your WordPress fans go away. Not that I had any really but, dang, I have to work for a living and do other important grown up stuff.

I wish I could write everyday…….or come up with something interesting, provocative or controversial or entertaining at a moments notice for my “audiences” viewing pleasure but, I’m only a hack writer and somewhat of a weirdo and have absolutely no talent or unbroken attention span.wp-1460852779979.jpg

IMHO….

I like making stuff up or exaggerating about a life event; mine or someone else’s?

Ok, I lie.

I don’t really like writing or giving an opinion on politics; especially not in today’s world , nor in this current partisan mood.

Twitter will KILL me!

It seems like the older I get the more I am concerned with the world around me and the future of my species.

Does it you?

Why should I worry about that, anyhow?

Is it because I have kids and grandkids?/

Is it because I want them to have a peaceful and fruitful life and a beautiful world? /

Of course, I do.

I’m not a freaking monster.

Would I worry about the world after I’m dead if I had, had no progeny?

I’d like to think I would but, unfortunately I am anti-social with borderline personality disorder and am completely self absorbed, so….fuck’em.

wp-1460853381672.jpgThe same thing goes for my opinion on religion/s.

I am what you would call….non-commital.

I believe that organized religion is corrupt in God’s eyes.

I believe that God still talks to man but no one knows it.

I believe that Jesus was the literal son of God, just as we all are.

I believe that there have been many men and women that have been “touched” by the finger of God and have taught many many essential truths.

Sorry, my train of thought just derailed….

I am becoming more jaded, the older I get.

The more I put my opinions or thoughts down on the screen and reread them, I ponder my words and come to the startling summation that I am either crazier than hell, a grumpy old man or a normal Joe Schmoe…..

That’s probably the scariest thought….am I actually normal?

No, that’s crazy, I know I’m batshit.

I have to be. I can’t be normal!

That would ruin my whole deal if I was normal!

I’ve been under the self diagnosed assumption that I am crazy, off kilter, a dysfunctional unit, a piñata that’s full of shit.wpid-image-29776397883-picsay.png

If I’m normal, I am going to be very disappointed in God when I see him.

If he tells me that I was the only normal man on earth, after everything single mean thought I’ve ever had, shoplifted piece of candy, cruel or biased judgmental observation, every dirty sex thought(I’m a freaking pervert, I swear) or any bad thing that has flashed thru my drug and or alcohol addled mind at the moment, I’ll kill myself…again.

Right there, in front of God, I will blow my freaking brains out.

I can’t be normal, I just can’t!

All of the excuses I’ve ever had won’t be worth a shit!

Ok, that train of thought complete, let’s continue: shall we?

I know I’m crazy.

I’ve read up on it!

I fit like 4 different patterns of mental illness!wpid-wp-1435676014160.jpeg

I don’t like talking about politics because I hate hypocrisy and everyone else’s opinion is bullshit.

Same goes for religion….

I am what I am.

I am spiritual.

I am bi-partisan.

I love my country but believe national borders are wrong.

I also believe there are evil people and that hard, unpopular decisions must be made to protect the innocent and meek among us; to protect freedom of will, choice and worship.

I believe that our way of life hangs in the balance, as it has for generations upon generations.

I believe that we are not alone in this universe.

It’s illogical….and arrogant

The place is just too big, and its still growing.

Change does that.

Evolution does that.wpid-fb_img_1426357030484.jpg

Innovation, prosperity, war and famine….does that.

We used to throw rocks at the moon and some people on this earth still make huts out of cow shit so, there….

How’s that high horse riding, now?

Our planet, to the best of our limited knowledge based on rules, guidelines and words created by fallible men, is said to be 4 billion years old.

Oh, words are hissing noises or guttural noises and we have spelling bees….

This world does not need us, we need it.

I know that I am nothing.

I know that I am everything.

I know that I am a miracle of evolutionary progress and I used to pee in my pants.

I know that change never ends.

images (2)There will be others after us…

Just imagine.

I believe that it is the doom of man that we forget

…….and I can’t remember shit.

Thx for wasting time with me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Battlefield,  Me.  

The Fourth Mindfulness Training: Awareness of Suffering.

I have started on a new life path.

Let me get going with this before I forget the feelings and emotions that I just went thru about 10 minutes ago.

Kinda scary, really….for me at least; or “my type” of scary.

Close freaking call is what it was.

I just barely walked into my little apartment; put up the groceries with shaking hands, poured a glass of lemonade with spasming shoulder muscles; then sat down, sweating, and turned on this lap top to share something with y’all.

I’m an alcoholic, you see; currently, blessedly, dormant.

I wanted a drink, bad this afternoon; drink aka: beer, whiskey, wine, inebriant….buzz

I don’t know what created the urge, craving, desire, longing or the lust.

It came out of nowhere, like a foul smell on an ill breeze.

I will run thru some sadly familiar things y’all probably already know about alcoholics; or have heard or maybe suffered with yourself.

The newest craving came out of nowhere and I have no idea what set it in motion.

None….

I’ve come to, in too many bars wondering how I got there.

Woke up in too many ditches, vacant cars, dumpsters or a bed in a stranger’s home.

I’m enough of an experienced alcohol rehabber to not be set off by feeble beer signs, beer advertisements, beer trucks, liquor stores, etcetera, etcetra…laudy freaking dah

But, there it was; out of nowhere? Or was it in me, in my soul the whole time, just waiting….?

One second I was driving my big truck to Wal-Mart; as a matter of fact I was listening to an audiobook called “The Heart of The Buddha’s Teachings” by Thich Nhat Hanh, because I am always searching for ways to make myself a better person, or maybe to make me feel better about myself or maybe to fill my head with good things and not bad things.

Right thinking…..

I don’t know why I am always listening and reading these self help books, seminars, different churches and countless other things.

….I don’t know why.

Anyhow, back to the craving.

It came like a hot breath on the back of my neck, it’s broken teeth raking across my skin; shivers and goosebumps up and down my spine.

My mouth started to water as I realized what was happening…

“No” I whispered to myself “No”

And just like that, it was all I could think about.

TA DA!! ABRA-FUCKING-CADABRA!

The battle for my sobriety was joined

Right Trey said “NO, ain’t happening”

Left Trey said “You’re just gonna have a few before bed”

There is no “few” in an alcoholics mind; especially not in this drunks mind.

Right Trey says “I don’t want to feel bad all day tomorrow”

I’m also a newly diagnosed diabetic.

Left Trey says “You’ll get plenty of sleep for it to wear off before you have to get up”

Right Trey says “I don’t want to keep getting up and have to pee a hundred times”

Left Trey says “Oh, it ain’t that bad, you pussy”

Right Trey says “I AM bored, though…..”

First sign of weakness; I have a lot of those.

Left Trey smells blood in the water and continues his attack “Just make sure you make a nice dinner while you can still stand and eat while you drink, that way you won’t get AS drunk or feel AS bad tomorrow”

I can’t believe I still listen to this guy, but….

I am shaking and sweating.

I’m getting so anxious that it’s causing me to get sharp pains in my chest and the inevitable heartburn starts.

Panic attack! Oh, shit! I HATE THOSE!

The beer annex in the Walmart was closed.

Small miracles.

I win!

Look at me! So full of moxy and blazing with self confidence (I know better) I went to a convenience store next door to the Walmart to get me a lemonade or something…

I had triumphed.

My chest hurt. I needed some Zantac

I blinked my eyes and found myself in front of the beer cooler, looking at the beer.

I was trembling….

“….no”

“….yes”

I felt sick, I felt nervous, I felt scared and weak….I felt mad.

I’m losing….

I know me….

Left Trey said “Ok, don’t get a 12 pack then, just get 2 forties”

Compromise; second line of attack

It was such a terrible craving attack.

Left Trey can be a ruthless bastard! Damn near killed me a few times.

I haven’t had a craving this serious in years.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I have “bad” cravings everyday. Little bitty ones but, not like this one was.

This was the kind of craving that ends up with me locked in a motel room for 4 days in the dark, hating myself, looking for the courage to find a way out of my head….

You see? I know me…

It made me physically ill and scared the shit out of me.

Too damn close, man….

Why now, after so long, I wonder? That’s the really scary part.

I’m gonna have to be on alert.

Always fucking there, dude!

Jeez, I don’t need a relapse, man . Not like THIS

I’m doing soo much better!

I won for the day though.

That’s a good sign, I guess.

I’m still willing to fight for my soul.

I have been for a long time.

“Do not become frustrated or discouraged when starting a new path in your life because eventually you will shake off the dust of the old path” – Me

“The Noble 8 Fold path teaches that through restraining oneself, cultivating discipline, practicing mindfulness and meditation,the enlightened ones can stop their craving, clinging and their karmic accumulations; thus ending their rebirth of suffering.” Wikipedia

It Is The Doom Of Man That We Forget: 1

“The trouble is, you think you still have time” – Fake Buddha quote

Dreams come true, sometimes…

Nightmares aren’t real, unless you’re in it…

“It is the doom of man that we forget”Inferno,-From-The-Divine-Comedy-By-Dante-$28folio-1v$29

Dante warned us what we faced….

The earth is burning out of control as we speak.

Mankind…..The arsonist of life.

Mankind…..The only hope.

I think we’re fucked….

No, check that…we are….fucked.

Thank God, I’m an optimist!

I wouldn’t be a good God.

I AM  too vengeful, jealous and impatient.

I’d have wiped us all out by now and started over.

I didn’t want to start out this post with that kind of attitude.

I don’t really like being a glass half empty type person.

I like being…..a “me” type person.

But….

People are still killing people though…

If you don’t like this post, I will fucking kill you!

Sounds like as good a reason to kill someone as any other, don’t ‘cha think?

Killers of the weak and meek….

They steal children from their front yards, rape them, choke them, stab them; then throw them into dumpsters or rivers.

They blow people up because they believe that there are only 65 virgins, not 72….

They shoot people in the face for $12 and a carton of smokes.

They bomb people from the air because they crossed a line on a map.

They kill people because they don’t know any other way. After all, their parents killed them, didn’t they?

They kill them because they took the name of their Lord in vain.

They kill them because they don’t believe in the God of their own understanding.

Besides, they know they are right….They BELIEVE IT.

They kill a child because the child is sexy; the kid was just asking for it.

They kill Granny because they know she gets a check every month, and she’s frail…..and weak.

They choke or beat their wives to death because the bitch didn’t have supper on time…or they need the insurance money to buy that new boat…or an engagement ring for the new bitch.

They kill the homeless person living in the alley because the fucker keeps asking for money and they’re tired of having to step over the piece of shit to get to the porno store…..Besides, he’s weak too….and vulnerable.

Plus, no one will miss them.

Public service, I guess they could say.

“ I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die….”

When Jesus said “The meek shall inherit the earth” maybe he meant their bodies.

Magool Eater of Children
Magool
Eater of Children

Piles of meek bodies stacked to the sky.

Evil reigns upon our lands.

If you turn the other cheek, you die.

Why do you think we have the ability to look over our shoulder?

It’s not because we like to see where we’ve been…

It’s because of danger and suspicion….instinct for survival.

images (5)

Darwin said that only the strong survive…

I will die before I deny Christ…or Buddha or whoever is popular this century….

Oh, interesting side note; did y’all know that as of November 2014, the full Bible has been translated into 531 languages, and 2,883 languages have at least some portion of the Bible.

And people sit there and believe that its infallible….PFFFT!

Were humans involved?

“I rest my case, Mr Mason; your witness”

No, don’t start getting all defensive, I’m not an atheist.

I’m more along the lines of an Agnostic Deist Buddhist Transcendentalist Baptist Catholic with Jainism tendencies.

The above crap means nothing to me in all reality…

IN REALITY…

I want to live, you see…?

I want other people to live.

Happy, happy, happy!

There is nothing worth dying for, except 3  things only;

I will die to protect my family and I will die to protect myself and, old age….That’s it.

I’m tired of enforced, forced, justifiable death.

I’m tired of war.images (6)

I’m tired of people preying on the weak and innocent.

I am tired of pedophiles that rape and murder children because the monsters mommy were  mean to them when THEY were kids.

I’m tired of the assholes that actually believe that shit.

I’m tired of people that kill in the name of God, Allah…Mohammed, Yahweh, Jehovah….Christ.

I’m tired of governments, controlled by little men AND women that control millions of us sheep, ready to die for flag and country….for $350 a week with reduced benefits…..

“Shake my hand, so I can see if you have a dagger up your sleeve”images (7)

Maybe mankind is a virus after all.

Weak viral cells have to die so that the stronger ones can feed off of them and survive to poison the host even further, mutating and adapting to become even harder to kill…

Knowing full well that when the host dies, they die.

They just don’t care, or if they do care, they just believe that “It can’t happen to me”

“Gimme all the money in the register!”

“Okay, there’s only $15 dollars, but I’ll give you all the cash in my purse…take anything you want, just don’t hurt me! I’ll give you an hour to get away before I call the police! Just don’t hurt me, I have kids!”

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

“Fucking, raghead!” “Fucking, Jew!” “Fucking, honky!” “Fucking, nigger!”

It doesn’t matter who you are, really…

If you have something that someone else wants, they will take it.images (10)

Oil, helpless children, women, money, cars….land….innocence.

What will I say to God when I meet him?

 

I know I won’t be able to look him in the eye….

“What in the hell is going on down there?!” asks God

I shrug my shoulders “I thought you knew” says I

“I quit paying attention after the flood. I thought that straightened everything out” God frowns….”I have other sheep, not of this fold”

I don’t blame him….

Free will and all that…..

“You left too many people” says Idownload (2)

This is my opinion;

A thought that I’d like for you to explore and consider….

Have you ever seen a beautiful work of art that everyone agreed on?

Have you ever seen a play or movie that everyone loved?

Does everyone love free Pepporoni pizza with extra cheese?

Dear God,

…..or whoever is running the show this week;

Give me the powers to set things right.

Let me be the judge….

I will kill them all.

Oh wait….

That’s your job….

frazetta

We must remind ourselves that we are capable of beautiful, wonderful things…

Please watch this Pale Blue Dot

Lasagna

It’s kinda hard, writing

When your humble servant (me) first started with WordPress (WP) I was probably just like the majority of y’all;

  1. Didn’t know how to use the regular editor thingy
  2. Didn’t know, and still don’t know, how to use the CSS thingy
  3. STILL don’t  know how to promote my writings, poems, musings or my carefully rewritten and reorganized ummmm…..what’s the word for stealing other people’s stuff and acting like it’s yours?

It’s either, ‘plagarize’ or ‘inspired’…fb_img_1451345640938.jpg

They’re both so close in their meaning, because if you look up both words in the dictionary and read between the corporate lines, they are, pretty much the same thing.

I guess I’ll go with ‘inspired’ because I do it without malice of forethought.

That means I didn’t mean to steal someone’s stuff and make it better.

Besides I can argue all day about why I have never willingly or knowingly plagarized anything.

I don’t read other peoples stuff or I should say, can’t read….

No, before y’all get all crazy and indignant, hear me out

If I read words from a page, I mean, literally read words on a page from a book like entity, I will be asleep in less than 2 minutes.

I have been like this since the 3rd grade. That’s when Mrs Salter first noticed it in me.

I can’t read instructions, newspapers, scriptures or anything over a page long. Seriously.

I will pass out.

I don’t think it’s a problem with dyslexia because I’ve always been a good speller, good problem solver and such; plus, mathematics doesn’t do it to me. I’ll look up dyslexia and see if I’m using it in the right context.

hmmm…doesn’t happen when I write.

I just noticed something else….

Why is dyslexia such a weirdly spelled word that represents a ‘condition’ where people have difficulties with spelling or the correct sequencing of words?

Oooo, look. My first wild tangent in this post.

Anywho…

My life has gotten in the way of me writing as much as I would like.

  1. eating
  2. paying bills, willingly.
  3. paying bills, that I have no idea why they are as much as they say they are.
  4. Treacherous wife
  5. Treacherous children; at least the ones I know about.
  6. Work; I guess that would be a ‘gimme’
  7. I wish I’d been born rich
  8. Life changes before my upcoming 52nd birthday.

wpid-seductress-plain-black-page-picsay.jpgI never thought I’d ever write that statement “Life changes before my upcoming 52nd birthday.”

But…I’m glad, or blessed, that I have gotten as far as I have gotten in this life; this test, this probationary state.

Because, if any of you have ever read any of my previous “get to know me” or “self revealing” posts on my humble blog, you will know that it’s pretty much a miracle that I have lived as long as I have lived.

Note: If I say I’m humble, does that mean I’m not?

If you haven’t read them, let me just simplify it so you don’t have to go thru the torture of reading them

It’s a miracle I haven’t killed me yet.

  1. I was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints on August 11, 1984; 32 years ago.

I was 19

When I came up out of the water in the baptismal font, I actually checked to see if my tattoos had come off.

Ignorant, yes, I guess; hoak’m maybe

But, man, I wish I had that feeling again.

It’s been the one instance that has seen me thru my fickleness for these past 32 years.

Yes, one moment in time, I knew that everything was gonna be alright.

….past 32 years….wpid-img_12463873886964-picsay.jpeg

I knew that I wasn’t alone, we aren’t alone. That, I knew secrets…and that I had to tell everybody.

If I had known then, as I stood waist deep in holy water, wiping the soul saving water from my eyes, what would happen in my life over these next 32 years, I probably would have asked the kindly missionary that had dunked me to dunk me again….until I quit kicking and tossing about and just floated, face down.

“Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand.” – Job 38:4

I have free agency but, Who am I to question God?

There’s a lot more in that question than you actually see at first; read it again and ponder.

I have free agency but, Who am I to question God?

“Mortals, born of woman, are of few days and full of trouble.” – Job 14:1

I have free agency but, I must cry repentance?

I wish I could keep a fetching steady stream of thought on one particular thread of contemplation and insight.

Stupid adult ADHD….

C’est la vie.

I’m all over the place with this.

Have faith?

Oh yes…I think I do finally.

I think I have an understanding in the concept, thereof.

If you are a memeber of the LDS Church, you will understand this…if not, I will add some links for clarification and has absolutely nothing to do with brainwashing. (You are a chicken, you are a chicken)

downloadI have been faithful to the law of tithing for a while now. Tithing

I have been faithful, as much as it is possible these days, to the Word of Wisdom Word of Wisdom

I miss tea and coffee…..WHY!!??

I am trying my darndest to pray each day, as much as possible, considering that I never really made it a priority in my life, plus I’m lazy, plus, I’ve always been like “Why, pray? God knows what I’m thinking or doing or what I need and what I;m thankful for, anyways. He’s a busy God; wouldn’t my stating the obvious to him just be a cruel redundancy or I’d be jamming up the lines for more needy and desperate or WORTHY souls to get their prayers heard?

It’s all about obedience to the word of God, I find out…dang it

Tangent 2….

I have so many ideas and directions that I can go with on this subject that I can’t keep my thoughts organized.

I think my writers block is gone.

Hallelujahimagesblock3

Anywhos….

I don’t know why I’ve gone in this direction with my blog.

Maybe it’s a natural course, maybe it’s a budding writer that is searching for meaning. maybe it’s because it’s time for everyone to start exploring their own souls and I can feel it in the air….

Maybe, I heard the voice of God in a prayer where I was saying nothing at all; maybe I was just listening for him, to see if he was eavesdropping on me.

He was.

I heard “Endure to the end”

As if someone was leaning over my shoulder and spoke into my ear, in a normal, level voice.

Not still. Not small

It happened.

I was there and I’m just as surprised as you are.

I opened my eyes. Got off my knees and sat on the edge of my bed. “hmmmmm”

That was strange.

Why’d he say that?

Not “OMG! God just spoke to me!”

Trey HeaderWhy’d he say that?

I know why. You know why. We all know why.

Endure. To. The. End.

So, I looked it up.

 

Endure: verb (used with object), endured, enduring.

1. To hold out against; sustain without impairment or yielding; undergo: to endure great financial pressures with equanimity.

2. To bear without resistance or with patience; tolerate: I cannot endure your insults any longer.

3. To admit of; allow; bear:

His poetry is such that it will not endure a superficial reading.

To hold out against?

To bear without resistance or with patience?

To hold out against, what?

To bear without resistance or with patience, against whom?

Hold out? Without resistance? Oxymoron?

Time?

Satan?

The World and all it’s ‘glory’?

God, himself?

I know what it is….

I have to hold out against myself….20141006_125886547-picsay.jpg

The greatest obstacle, hindrance in my life is undoubtedly and unsurprisingly…..me.

I only have to hold out, endure to the end, against the greatest supervillin known to me.

Great.

No problem.

I have to think on this.

TTYL

p.s: Oh, the last meat dish I have eaten was Lasagna.

 

p.s2: I miss meat but, not really.

 

 

 

 

 

Elder Clarke Returns

The nice Mormon people sat in the church pews, surreptitiously glancing over their left shoulders as the doors into the chapel opened; breaking the air pressure in the big room, alerting the members of possibly a new investigator or an old crib Mormon coming to worship, and wondering even more so “Why’re they late to church?”

Sinner….

download (4)

I was a little apprehensive to say the least as I peered thru the doors; the numerous heads turning my way,  and the exploring, questioning, judging eyes.

Like walking into a room full of scary baby dolls….at your great grandma’s… 

There were some smiles of course; or was the baring of the teeth an act of territorial bravado?

There were mostly frowns and straight, clinched, undecided lips.

A baby cried…

I also noticed that there were some indignance, impatience and irony scattered here and there among the congregant faces.

“Guilt” I think to myself “I feel guilty for getting here late”

That’s a good sign, I guess.

After all, I’d been gone for a long time; from church, I mean.

Definitely lending credibility to the phrase of “Better late than never”

…..whatever

Of course this all took place in the blink of an eye and a simultaneous breath, like most death-defying acts of bravery occur.

fb_img_1460244815127.jpg

I passed thru the door into the chapel, heart thumping. 

There was no lightning or burst of hellfire.

No thundering voice yelling “Depart heathen!” or a hissing, demonic “Get. OUT.”

Pheeww…

The echoes of my sliding steps across the carpeted floor were mind numbing to me; ringing off every hard surface like insane church bells being jerked up and down by a crazed hunchback!…. I believe I could actually see people wincing as their ear drums busted!

 Young mothers screamed, holding their infants up as human shields; old men grabbed their chest and fell to the floor; old women rifled the old mens pockets and the young husbands grunted, opened their eyes, looked around sleepily, dug some Cheerios and Apple Jacks out of a Ziploc bag and munched on them all the while putting the binky back in the baby’s mouth; the preacher leaps over the pulpit, swinging a blinding crucifix around his head, pumping righteous death at me from the barrels of 2 golden revolvers, spitting Gods justice in molten hot lead!!!

Well, it coulda happened…No, wait….

wpid-karate-picsay.jpg

That’s just my imagination. We ain’t got crucifixes in our chapels….or preachers; technically speaking. 

The door shut behind me as I slid clumsily into the last seat in the last pew, closest to the aisle.

Peoples heads turned succedently, obediently, back towards the front of the chapel; the room pressure returning back to an optimal church worshipping level.

My ears were buzzing and I realized I had to pee.

“Welcome, Elder Clarke, been a while” came a voice from above… 

Oh, speakers…. 

I looked around the room, scanning various faces that were looking at me again..

I’ve got food on my face, don’t I? 

1461613209900.jpg

I wipe it off.

Is there an Elder Clarke in here?  Weird…

“I’m talking to you, Brother Clarke” said the same all around me voice, followed by a slight microphone squeal.

Oh crap.

I’m a Brother Clarke….(I’m still looking around during this time freeze)

Microphone means speakers, speakers mean microphone, microphone MEANS PERSON TALKING TO ME!

Well, technically in the LDS faith, I am an elder but, I don’t consider myself worthy of the title.

I wouldn’t even say I’m a Jack Mormon. I’m more of a…..Doug.

“Yep, Wolf amongst the sheep” I mumble to myself; man, have I gotta pee.

I throw my hand up in a “Howdy y’all” half wave; the kind of greeting you give to a crowd of people when you are late to a meeting or event and gratefully accept the sentence of death pronounced upon you by the goodly town folk.

But, in a nice, Jesus loving way….

“It’s good to have you join us today; welcome back” said the person at the microphone.

He smiled at me and winked.

So, this is how it’s gonna be, huh?

Dirty pool, Bishop.

Note: (That’s what we Mormons call our dirty, rotten, lying, good for nothing, treacherous ward leader)

No, not really. He’s an excellent human being. Ugly kids though….

He promised me yesterday that he wouldn’t call me out in front of the whole ward (that’s what we call our….wait….I don’t know why they call us “ward’s”. You look it up. I’m writing, here)

I threw him a curve ball.

wpid-20150109_062042-picsay2

Making a wide, sweeping glance around the chapel, I pronounced “I just got back from my mission, Bishop”

He still smiled but, I saw a look quickly pass over his face.

What was that….intrepidation, fear? Nooo….

The dirty bugger can’t wait to hear what I’m gonna say.

Touché mon ami…. 

How’d he know…… Dang! 

I hate it when people talk to Jesus behind my back and figure me out….

“A mission?” I hear a voice ask; somewhere off to my right, slightly behind me.

I follow the trailing echo of the voice and locate the source.

A teenaged girl. Cute, brown hair, invisi-braces….those questioning, Doubting Thomas green eyes.

Not, the Bishops kid, I surmised. 

“You’re too old to go on a mission” the highly astute young girl stated.

I said “You’re never too old to go on a mission” I smiled, sarcastically but, in a loving Jesus way…. 

She flipped her hair, turned her smug little, snotty face towards the front of the chapel, denouncing my presence in her sphere of supremacy and pronounced the obvious..

“I see you around all of the time, Mr Trey (that’s my name) How can you be on a mission when you never left?”

Smart girl.

wpid-drama_king_by_liebatron-d55mt7h.png

I hate smart kids; used to beat them up.

**Back and forth banter (I hate having to put ”  ” after each quote; bugs me)

“Well, dear, I was on a mission of sorts”

“Did the church call you for your mission?”

“Kinda”

“How can they “kinda” call you on a mission?” *snort laugh * Where’d you go on your “mission?” *12-year-olds faint laugh of derision*

……..silence for a few seconds.

Everyone is looking at me.

I feel tears coming.

My face feels hot all of a sudden….

I hear the Bishops voice; not on speakers….right next to me.

I look at him.

He puts his arm around my shoulders and winks at me again.

“Elder…Clarke (he grins) told me this yesterday”

I hear the low rustle of people in church pews paying closer attention. Y’all know that sound.

“Tell them where you served your mission, “Mr Trey”.

wpid-1447804045508.jpg

Everyone is looking at us,  I can tell.

I turn to face them.

Deep breath…. Funny, I was breathing just fine a second ago. 

“I went to Hell” I said

…….quiet from the cheap seats. 

Absolute.Quiet.

I think the crying baby was even listening now.

Baby’s are smart.

They talk to angels until they get older and learn how to forget Angel stuff.

Bless his heart…

I know this little boy was sitting somewhere across the aisle, invisible to me; lost among all the big people surrounding him.

“Did you baptize anybody in…you know; where you was at?”

*low snicker* *mom quietly hushing little boy* *grunt, rustle of Ziploc and Apple Jacks*

“Just me” I said

This was too good for all the tweens in my new audience; the missionary scholars…

“You can’t baptize yourself!”

*louder snickers* *quiet slap of a low five*

wpid-wp-1438087254443.jpeg

“You’d be surprised” I said. 

My gaze wandered to the front of the chapel, a picture of Christ hung there….

It was the Jesus picture that stares at you, follows you around the room. 

I stared back, got dizzy. 

How does he DO that? 

Once again, hushingly “I was in Hell for 20 years….

I felt the Bishops hand squeeze a little harder on my shoulder; I looked back at the curious people in my ward.

They looked back at me, noticing that my voice had changed, my eyes, my face….

I heard “Mommy, Mr Trey is sad”

“No he’s not, baby….” hushed Mommy. “He’s happy”

I smiled at her.

My voice is husky now….

“I was in Hell for 20 years, here…..and here” I first pointed to my head, then my chest.

*Small voice from cheap seats*

“Is Hell bad?” it said

I sat there for a few seconds before I leaned forward; grabbing onto the top of the pew in front of me; knuckles turning pink, red then white, from my grip….

“Yes….” I said.

“Yes……..”

10592739_309434649228541_4702930826788118450_n
“Yessss….you could say that”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Afraid Of My Shadow

 

 Can I go outside to check the mail, despite the terrorists lying in wait behind my Prius; just dying to blow themselves up or saw my head off? 

They’re everywhere. 

Probably raping and pillaging at the Walmart, right as we speak. 

Can I go outside and check the mail, without getting skin cancer from a dying sun that pours deadly UV rays thru our Swiss cheese ozone layer, that is caused by bushy, bushy blonde hair-dos and their gravity defying gradients? 

Can I go outside to check the mail without getting Type 2 diabetes?

Can I go outside to check the mail without locking my house and jacking a live round into my somewhat lawfully acquired, legal, 2nd Amendment protected concealed carry firearm? 

“It’s an 88 Megnum; it shoots thru schools”

Can I go outside to check the mail or did they email it? 

Well, if they did email it at least I won’t have to go outside. 

Staring at a computer screen will give you cancer or worse; make me gay! 

I might get hit by a driverless auto-car. 

There’s freaking drones out there too, man! 

(3 hrs later) 

Can y’all believe I just seen a blue butterfly? 

 ….in the summer. 

….in Texas? 

I started out this post feeling a little overwhelmed with life this morning. 

Then, I saw the blue butterfly. 

It landed on my semi-trucks mirror and just stared at me. 

I stared back. 

It fluttered it’s wings.

He didn’t say anything so we just sat there… 

I forgot what I was writing about. 

Stupid angels. 

Messed up a perfectly miserable post. 

Guess I’ll have to be in a good mood then… 

Damn. 

I Want My Family Back

You know what’s cool about Facebook?

image

Other than the Find Jesus, find money meme’s….thats obvious.

Even though you have family members that despise you for things that supposedly happened over 35 years ago in some instances and 25+ years in others, you can still wiggle through the Facebook jungle and see pictures of them and your nieces, nephews, cousins and grandkids.

Makes me not so lonely, sometimes, you know?

Kinda, love’em on the sly….
Keep it on the DL….

The lonely spy, am I.

image
LB & Baby

It’s amazing; forgiveness, I mean.
I can have it but, no one else can.

Weird how that works in the Bible but, not real life families.

Once a monster, always a monster, I suppose.

image

The not-so funny part is that I haven’t seen some of these people or tried to bother them in over 15 years!

Ever since I left after my dad’s funeral.

I know what I was all those years ago.

I don’t need constant reminders. I have, me to remind me…

Sometimes, I just wish I’d shut the fuck up.

Trust me on this!

Ha! I even told them that I’d kill myself if they’d just forgive me for ANYTHING!!

I still throw out feelers, you know, just in case there’s a chance I can be part of a family again.

I can dream.

image

I don’t even get the disappointment of being properly rejected; only silence.

I am not the same person I was in my dark years.

“Pick a flower and forget me not”

(Their response) “Oh, poor, poor Trey, so put upon, so mistreated, so unfairly judged, it’s everybody’s fault but his, he never did anything!)

Never fails….

Problem is that I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT!

Really, I don’t.
Probably all the drugs and alcohol….

Now, don’t you think that If I was the insensitive monster they all believe me to be, then why did I stumble thru years, drunk off my ass, sleeping in dumpsters, gutters and homeless shelters!?

If I didn’t care or have remorse for anything then why would I be living like that?

It shouldn’t have bothered the monster, right?

image
Mom, Dad, Uncles David and Chris

“Oh, you were just feeling sorry for yourself” 

Oh, yeah. I was. You betcha…

That’s the worst possible thing; feeling sorry for yourself and being out of control.

I wouldn’t exactly call it a life between 1993 and 2009….

It was a fucking nightmare, dude. I shit you not.

In hell; on earth. Sux

image

I’ve done my time in the prisons of your minds.

Your hate and contempt has gotten old.

It’s rotting my soul..

Forgive me, once and for all and let’s have love, instead.

If you wanna get to know your family member again, I’m all heart!

Dying for a chance.

I’m a helluva guy now, you know?

First! Jesus freak disclaimer:

I forgive you if you can’t bring yourself to change your attitude or change your conditioned mindsets.

image

Y’all have kept taking this poison for a long time.

Second nature, so to say.

I know it’s hard, believe me.

It took me a long time too.

Hopefully, one day, you will be free of your burden, because it is a burden. Justified or not.

I am free of it, myself.

If you forgive fast, make IT the second nature, you’ll be the better for it.

If you forgive anyone, I don’t expect it, in all reality, to be forgotten.

Just knock the stink off of it and carry on….

I guess it doesn’t really matter if you forgive me. It’s been this way a long long time.

It’d be nice and wonderful and all that….but;

My love for y’all is greater than your hate, so if you wanna go on hating, go ahead.

I’ll love you forever just to piss you off.

Oh, and on a personal note; if the world starts coming to an end and you have nowhere else to run…

Come to me.

image

I will feed you and protect you.

Or, I will die trying.

Do you know why?

Because, I have always loved you even when I couldn’t see or hear you.

We’ve lost enough.

image

The Window

“Are you in there, Daddy?”

Dad smiles back at me, his eyes shining, a look of glee on his face.

He grins wider and squeezes my hand harder…

He has no idea who I am does he?

*She can’t hear me can she?*

*I’m looking right in my baby’s eyes and squeezing her hand but, she just looks at me with her sad, pouty face she’s used on me since she was 2 years old, right after the time she dropped her very first piece of birthday cake. That was a very unhappy girl; she was sitting there, so big on a big pot, in a big chair so she could reach her big plate of cake on the big table.*

*Such a big girl….
I remember it like it was yesterday….
How long ago was that…yesterday?*

I look into my daddy’s eyes and I can tell he see’s me but, like the Doctor says “The lights are on but no adults are at home, only a 3 year old”

I wonder if daddy can understand what I say to him?

What’s he thinking?

I hold his hand tighter and lean towards him; Daddy likes this and grins bigger.

“Daddy, Mama died”

I burst into tears….
I can’t help it.

It’s not fair.

My mom knew me to her last
breath; my mommy died with her ungrateful child’s name on her dry lips.

My dementia ravaged dad is frowning.
He probably doesn’t know he is….
Did he hear me, does he understand what I’m saying?

No….
He’s grinning again and patting my hand; a comfort pat.
He remembers what tears are, at least….maybe.
I shouldn’t get too excited though.
We all know what tears are.
Some more than others.
Tears are in our DNA.

I’m grasping at straws….

*Lisa’s dead?
My wife of 62 years is dead?
My junior high school crush is dead?
The girl down the street that used to beat me up everyday, when we were kids, is gone?
Lefty is dead?
My Lisa…..gone.

And here I sit on my big, flat dumb ass; I can’t do a damn thing about it except grin and giggle, pat Casey’s hand and drool like an idiot.*

*I’m trapped in here.*

*It’s like my body is a car and I’m in the passenger seat and I can’t move or talk and no one’s driving.*

*I’m dead in here*

*Is this hell?*

My heart keeps me alive out of spite, I’m sure of it.

*Am I in purgatory?*

*Am I not getting to spend eternity with my lover, my best friend?*

*Lisa
….. dead

My Honey Biscuit is gone.

I’m trapped in here.

Trapped…

*I’m watching my baby girl fall apart right in front of me, at my very knee, and all I can do is slobber and mew like a cat.*

It ain’t fair…

Something outside the window has caught daddy’s attention, so much for reaching him today.

I just can’t handle this right now….

“Daddy, I’ll come back tomorrow morning, we’ll have breakfast, OK?”

*I hear Casey leave; she doesn’t want to shut the door*

Poor baby. Such a great kid.

*Be strong, kiddo*

*I don’t think we’ll make breakfast.*

*Your mom is here to get me*

*Bye, baby girl*

*Thanks for being there for me, it meant everything, more than you’ll ever know*

*Lefty says you’ll be just fine, so I guess it’s OK to leave*

*See ya on the other side, Case’ *

note: I hate crying when I write

image

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: