Splendiferous Conventionality

a faithless nation, a sick abomination, human infected, lost without direction, without hope; a lost generation i was a cradle Catholic. as far as i know, on my father's side- our entire family has been Catholic. i knew nothing else- did not understand or know much about other denominations. i heard their names; Protestant, Baptist, Episcopal, Lutheran, Methodist, and within the last 10 years, Muslim. but i knew little about what their 'faith' encompassed. i knew: baptised at birth, First Reconciliation, Holy Communion, Confirmation; and well, there are others that follow, but i did not complete them. i knew going to Confession on Sundays, praying the Rosary, Saints, Lent, long weddings, long funerals, and long masses of standing, kneeling, sitting, repeat. this education that i received from a very young age planted a seed that has blossomed into the faith i have today- and although i am no longer a practicing Catholic- i respect and relish in the reverence i have and

“Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.” -- Shel Silverstein i find myself forcing the pen- i have been instructed by the writer in a book i'm reading on writing to write a little everyday. regardless of the topic, or structure, or need-- just write. i thought it'd be easier. i actually feel like writing often, but its generally when i am in class, driving, or tending to my domestic duties. its not there when sit down and have the time. i will now explain this. i have given my own 'road block'. probably for the last 10 years or more, if i had to venture a guess. i don't know why exactly. i don't know what precise moment (or if there is one)- where i decided that i was mediocre, would only be mediocre, and shouldn't bother to try for more. i don't know if it was the compa

have you ever felt overwhelmed? not overwhelmed by bills, and stress, and all the components of a Calgon commercial-- but overwhelmed by something surreal, spiritual, supernatural? like your insides were being replaced by light and weightlessness and reverence? like if given the opportunity, you might change someone? not change someone because you don't like that they eat onions before bed, or they complain about your nuances, or they drink too much and you want them to stop-- but CHANGE, affect them for always. in the most positive of ways. monumental ways. like you had the capacity to wipe the slate clean of all the hatred, and hurt, and violence, and racism, and judgement from every one's mind if for only a moment, even a nanosecond? gawd, i've felt that way lately. especially today. maybe i should check the moon. or my hormones. or winter solstice. i want you to understand that what i am experiencing is not a "God complex". i certainly would never propose or a

its very hard not to write this in brain waves. random thoughts spurt out of my fingertips every time i sit here to expel what has run through my mind in a day. i don't want to do that. i really want to write something magnificent. i wish i could explain the feeling. if you are a musician or a painter, i think you can understand... when it hits you- that creative glimmer of possibility of something... amazing... all at your fingertips. half the time, it seems, that this occurs when the medium is not in front of you- so you have to 'hold' it until you get to where you can give birth to it. ok, i'll do both. first day of class. feel good about it thus far. as far as the expectation of the classes, and homework and tests and the possibility of achieving A's again. why do we write "A's" like that- as if it belongs to the A? is there another way that is more appropriate? oh, sorry... tangents come easy in this environment. instantly hungry. oh, i hate that

...at 30 minutes after the hour. a picture of two very familiar faces also indicate who this special call is coming from. i happily answer as i unfortunately missed its ring earlier. a little, beautiful, piece of me voice, half jokingly, half scolding asks why i didn't answer earlier. i explain that i was visiting and my phone wasn't near. she eventually accepts it, but then tells me disheartening news... My Heart: "I might have to start seeing my counselor, my counselor Jan again.". Me: "Oh?", (i try to muster out without alarming concern) >> did i fool her, or just myself? >> My Heart: "Yeah." Me: "Why's that?" My Heart: " Because I am starting to miss you again ." Me: "Oh." >> completely heartbroken >> "Well, that's ok. We all have to talk to someone sometimes. Maybe it will help. Does writing in the journal help at all?" My Heart: >> matter of factly >> "N

the heater is loud beside me, but it keeps this little bitty perfect office of mine from being a little bitty perfect icebox. Mystery Play I radio tells me a story of man vs ants (large large ants i am assuming) from 1950 something- when the cool shiv was on a box sitting in the corner of your living room, and people still used their imaginations instead of having it painted out for us on a new box blaring with lights, color, special effects, and a soundtrack from hipsters. a 180 sits almost empty reminding me that it is nearing its extinction- the idiots who make them have decided they aren't selling well enough (sheesh, would they like to see my check register!), so they are discontinuing them. i can't find another i like as well. this makes me not happy. i am addicted to Facebook. i enjoy seeing what's going on with my friends. and most of them are my real friends. it is nice to stay somewhat 'connected' when life keeps us all running. i have found long lost frie