On What Is True By Definition

01/09/2007 9:07 PM – 9:30 PM

And so what if you’re writing because it’s an episode of Veronica Mars that you’ve already seen? You’re writing. You’re here at your desk and you’re alright. You’re still chubby, but you’re alright. And there goes the twenty and it’s late at night again. Maybe something more. Maybe something to look forward too, and maybe is enough.

Out there, out the window, its snow dusted sidewalks and the snow is such a rarity that it’s still welcome. And there goes a salter. Which makes one think of a Psalter. And Christian children’s musicals. They were fun. I don’t regret them anymore. Everything from back then wasn’t shit. Far from it. Even some of their creepy-version-of-Christianity stuff was good. It is to exist and do good. It is enough to be at peace. It is enough to go through a day and not have the itchy flush of fear of fear. And one can be thankful. And one can be proud. But not too much so. And the fullness thereof. The intangible coats the surface of the fingers and we trace a parabolic design into the imaginary canvas, indicative of the function of love (never reaching zero).

There’s nothing there, just words in a bottle, shaken and stirred. We become ourselves only in forgetting ourselves. Looking up, we find ourselves outside the window, typing twenty feet above the snowy roof of the garage. It’s nothing you see. It’s just being and being where here is. Nothing remarkable. Nothing unfulfilled. There and here, the world remains in the embrace of the uncreated will. And so, letting go we forget what is unnecessary and exist as fingers on keys, as bodies in motion, as minds at rest. There is a world and there is this and tomorrow will arise and become the inevitable. Running full speed, we remain at rest. And how will it all turn out? And how will the story end? Well, of course. All stories are the one story and the story cannot help but end well. That is how existence is defined. It’s a leap of faith. But one can make it. And it’s more fun. Then you just lie back in your inner tube and paddle, the river carries you home. And you pull the tube up to the back door and grandma has ordered pizza and you drink milk and watch Mighty Ducks 2 and therein you exist knowing the intent of God in flesh as well as spirit. It was only a so-so episode of Veronica Mars. And Mac wasn’t in it. So this is enough. And full.