The Maid & Forgiveness

Grandmaandx

I spoke with my grandmother today;

As a child I loved her.

As a teenager I became skeptical of her.

As an adult I'd grown to hate her.

Tonight as I spoke to my 80-something year old grandmother I was skeptical that she would still be in her mind long enough for me to tell her that I was sorry for the bitterness and resentment I had for her. I believe that skepticism was enough faith for me to go forward with my amends; it is quite a twist of fate.

"But, what is there to make amends for?" Of that i won't speak of; for because of it I have been tangled up on the inside for as long as I could remember.

"But, what are you sorry about, baby?" is what she said to me after I told her why I was calling. As this is not the first time that I've had a conversation like this with her, I wasn't hearing anything that I'd never heard before; however, this time I wasn't offended by her sweet ignorance.

I've come to realize that she really doesn't know why I would have any resentments towards her; she truly doesn't understand, and that it is not my place to make her realize that. The only thing I have to offer is my forgiveness, and then I can move on to the task of untangling the mess.

"I only tried to raise you up right, and you could become a good man: a God fearing man." she said to me in a typical Liberty County drawl that--since my return to the church in Patton Village--I've come to love. "And I think you turned out all right."

The Lord is a good God, and he's doing things that I never thought were possible. Also things that I would have never expected in times like these.

Tights & Ter-relle

20130401-143751.jpg Back in Louisiana, I grew up knowing myself in two names: tare-roll & ter-relle.

I wonder if the mispronunciation of my name over the corse of my life time has contributed to my inability to remember another person's name. Or, could it be that I just don't pay attention enough; that I'm not exactly "all-in" the communications process.

I'm wearing tights; I like them.

The revival went very well, I must say. I found myself lifting my hands, reaching for the fire that Jaime said she could feel whenever she was worshiping. The Parkinson Family has a real gift of inviting The Dove into the room.

I believe I felt The Dove there as it danced above the congregation: floating as if it were a wispy mist; or a fog that gathered in the early dawn of St. Mary Parrish, as it waits for the Sun's queue to fall.

fall it did

In the most casual of ways, the Spirit addressed us all. Glossolalia was given unto The Lord as The Parkinson's laid hands on Reverend Jackson.

I opened my mind to accept the flushing as well. Like the people of Jonestown, I was drinking to my death. The death of my body, my life, and Terrell, and to accept the life-blood of Jesus' sacrifice on Callvery.

So, last night--while Saturn was in Libra--The Aquarian Floods, that I've fore mentioned, watered the lakes and the village of Patton. But, what was most important was that the hearts and bodies of those gathered believers in that tiny church in the woods on Main Street were flooded as well.

The levee has broken; Where will you go when it floods?

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Revival; Night Two

20130330-201348.jpg It's the second night of the revival, here in Patton Village. Our band didn't play much this evening, but we got to open the service which was beautiful. I love playing with these guys.

Brother Braun is speaking again; he's talking about whenever Jesus died, and how his spirit separated from his body & the presence of God. He's said that that was the greatest pain of his death experience.

He goes on to say that Jesus prayed under the underworld; this is a very controversial concept within the Christian church, but I like it.

He proclaimed deliverance to the ones who had been there since the flood.

Paradisical... I don't think that's a word.

Abraham's bosom: I would like to know more about that.

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Revival; Night One

20130329-201121.jpg Tonight at the first night of the revival Brother Bron is speaking. He's talking about Jesus. I love to hear him speak. I've been been playing the organ for the church. It's a lot of fun. I'm glad to be back with these people. I'm glad to be part of this family. I wonder if this is what it was like to be part of Jonestown. Not in the sick ways of mind control or cyanid--Kool-Aid cocktails, but in the fashion of a group of people gathering together for the sale of their belief and faith.

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His tongue would swell. It would take him 36 day from affixation.

The core problems of our lives is the root to sin.

Sometimes a person wants to die, but they just can't.

As a result of his suffering, Jesus can understand our suffering.

Good Friday; early morning

20130329-071446.jpg Today is the day that my Lord hung on a cross.

Mermaids Transgendered

Kool-aid Jonestown

Robots Pill

These are the things that float around in my head: Three of four hard corners. Was it all in preparation, or is this just a circle; could it be both?

It's early and over cast with clouds. Tonight is the revival at the tiny church in the village; I'm excited about being a part of it. The Lord will move there this weekend.

outgoing/\/\essage;;;

See you there

“Deep within himself, man knew something greater than himself was always with him and part of him, spurring him on to greater deeds, greater thoughts, greater aspirations. It was something out beyond himself, scarcely realised and never found; something, which told him that the radiance seen on the horizon but dimly reflected the hidden glory beyond it.” Excerpt From: Jenner, Greg. “Planet X and The Kolbrin Bible Connection.” iBooks. This material may be protected by copyright.

Check out this book on the iBookstore: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/planet-x-kolbrin-bible-connection/id436612541?mt=11

“Henceforth he would have dominion over God’s earthly estate, but he also had to unravel the Circles of Eternity, and his destiny was to be an everlasting seeking and striving.” Excerpt From: Jenner, Greg. “Planet X and The Kolbrin Bible Connection.” iBooks. This material may be protected by copyright.

Check out this book on the iBookstore: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/planet-x-kolbrin-bible-connection/id436612541?mt=11

20130325-111256.jpg “He has always remained dimly reflected in His creation. He became veiled from all that came forth from Him. Creation does not explain itself; under the Law, it cannot do so; its secrets have to be unravelled by the created.”

Excerpt From: Jenner, Greg. “Planet X and The Kolbrin Bible Connection.” iBooks. This material may be protected by copyright.

Check out this book on the iBookstore: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/planet-x-kolbrin-bible-connection/id436612541?mt=11

On the Other Hand;

20130306-220704.jpg On the other hand, I wonder if I really do need this?

I don't think that I've ever known a time when I wasn't like this. Does depression constantly get worse as a person ages? What about whenever I'm an old man?

The thought of being an old man is depressing enough.

What if I walked out on my chance?

What if this is just another tactic from the government trying to keep down the people in my income level: leaving me addicted to yet another substance that I can't seem to let go of.

Tonight at church we did an illustration of asking for help. Everyone was blind folded, and in a square that was lined out by tables. They were told to find their way out, and if they needed help all they had to do was ask. After the "lost" tired from searching their blinded way out of the "maze", they asked for help, and the blindfold was removed.

I didn't participate; I facilitated it. The way it makes you feel whenever you have to present a message that you can't demonstrate yourself.

So, yes I understand the parallel, but...

outgoing/\/\essage;;;

how do I ask for help, Lord? One thing that I've come to understand about faith is that, Things are rarely what they seem, And there is more than just action required. But even if I were to do it so nonchalantly, The heartbeat of this message is to say, "Lord, I need you help!"

Deception Invited by Cymbalta;

20130306-131122.jpgI wonder about the grand deception, I wonder how much of what I'm doing is part of that. As a Christian the end times & the narrative of Revelations has always intrigued. Fear is often associated with it as well. I think it so because I worry that I won't make it in the end.

My most honest fear of taking antidepressants is that I'm submitting to the authority of the world, and that my reliance on drugs is the what will keep me unreliable on The Lord.

He is forgiving; he is understanding; but he is the ultimate judge & the only say in my eternity.

outgoing/\/\essage;;;

I do not know what to do. Or do I? I've still yet to finish the text. Are you concerned with my pedigree? Are you concerned with my artistry? My ship is at harbor, Along the shores of Saturn's rings. I'll wait for your reply, An anticipation fearful in its inquiry;

Cymbalta & Bad Technology

20130304-231250.jpg Tonight is the first night that I've taken my newest prescription, Cymbalta. The name reminds me of a warrior of some type. I spent the last two days not on any meds at all, and I was fine; however today as I woke up late for my appointment with Tim, I dreaded my visit to Dr. Lagrone's office. I thought about not going.

The peculiar thing is that Dr. Lagrone chose this antidepressant because it was what he had free samples of... As silly of an idea that is, I think it's just as silly for me to take the drugs knowing that.

I'm sure I've taken worse before; I'd hope so at least.

Tonight I watch "I, Robot" & "2010: the year we made contact". Both movies have a theme of technology gone wrong, creation turning against creator, and the consequences of human flaw. I wonder what parallels lie between that and the gospel.

I feel tired, but unable to sleep. I'm wiggly in my joints. I'm not sure how I feel about being medicated still. It's very scary to me

101; the digital age; & antidepressants

20130301-202917.jpgBack in the summer of 2010, I started this blog. "This Intangible Existence," dressed in a classic serif font floating atop my brand new place to write.

At first I only wrote transcripts of my journals. Then followed formal essay type entries, and blurbs about pop culture. At that time I was primarily creating and writing in a more traditional since, e.g., wall hangings, journals, instant film, & discs. I tried earnestly to be an analog artist.

Despite my efforts, my artistic and spiritual journey has led me to a digital realm; it's a lot like the place inside of me from which all my work pours from.

With the burning of my books, which happened shortly before I began hosting my words in this space, it seems my work has taken a different highway towards the digital medium;

this intangible existence.

Today is my fifth day on the drug Viibryd. Today was the day that I knew this drug was bad [for me]. I broke down at work and had to leave. I called the doctor, and he said to stop taking the drug, and see him on Monday. I see Tim that morning also.

More sorrowing than the depression is the realization that I'm actually going crazy, and this is an attempt to take control before its too late. I don't know what that means exactly, but this is not what I expected my way out to look like.

A line runs through my mind that is parallel to that of People's Temple & Heaven's Gate; Am I in the line with the citizens if Jonestown, awaiting my glass of Kool-Aid handed to me by some American conspiracy to control the masses in a George Orwell novel?

Or-

Am I really sick, and is this the best decision that's I've ever made in parenting myself as an adult? Maybe I should move to Colorado, Washington, or California. Maybe I should run back to Jesus; these are all attempts to fix myself, and the truth is that I am not God.

A very sad day this has been [for me].