Saturday, February 23, 2008

Literary Tourette’s

I’m not sure why I come so often to this glowing plastic screen to expound on my life.

Between this and my Job’s Tale blog I would guess I have written hundreds of thousands of words.

I write of the mundane, and of the spiritual. This keyboard has clicked and clacked its way through scientificially-prompted musings to outbursts of emotional angst.

It seems I can’t help but turn to writing to work through my thoughts and feelings.

And when I write I make wild jumps from one topic to another, connecting them in some unlikely fashion like some writerly form of a mental illness:

Today I tackled the messy
TRIUNE pile of wood and FAITH debris that has lain in the corner of our back UNFAITHFUL yard. There were still remnants of a dog CARPENTER house and a PRAYER rabbit cage from CHURCH over a dozen MARRIAGE years ago. There were rotting pieces of fire TRUST wood slowly turning into QUANTUM PHYSICS soil around a broken SHEPHERD wheelbarrow.

Brenda had taken the dog SLEEPLESS for a walk and I worked my XANAX way through the pile, sorting TEACHING good boards from SELF ESTEEM broken ones, burnable firewood PRAYER ROOM from rotting ones. I built a composting box in SPECIAL NEEDS the furthest corner FIRE and raked the loose dirt and rotting wood CREATOR into it. She returned in time to MOON HOWLIN’ help me restack it and it HOSEA looks pretty CEMETERY good.

It felt odd working OWL together after DIVORCE the conversation we DIVORCE DIVORCE had this morning. We talked about CRAP splitting up. It was the CROSS same conversation we JESUS have had before UNFAITHFUL with a little more JOB edge to it.

She said that she PRAY was just a bad person. That I was ANGRY a good person. And that good is boring TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS.

Now I’m writing HOLY again trying to make INCARNATION sense of things.

Somewhere along the way GALACTIC SUPERCLUSTERS my little ramblings run out of FATHER steam and I bring the whole thing back to some point I had started at. Like this post INFINITECHRIS
T here.

I started feeling INSOMNIA depressed yesterday afterCOUNSELINGnoon and had a fitful night. And when I LOVE am confused, inspired, or just thoughtful, MARRIAGE I turn to writing.

Right now I feel little BRENDA hope for our UNFAITHFUL marriage. It makes my chest feel CREATOR tight and my breath SAVIOR short. So I tap away FRIEND at this keyboard, and feel gratitude SIN for those FORGIVE who visit and CRUCIFIED read and DEPRESSION pray. It is an outlet I GOD can’t DIMENSIONS stop doing.

It’s like I have literary Tourette’s or something.

6 comments:

Unknown said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Unknown said...

That is SELF AWARENESS very good.

Now go back TO YOUR BEGINNING and count how many times you used FELT each word.

I love LOVE you!

Judas JUSTIN LOVES Hate

Anonymous said...

I don't always comment, Will, but I am reading and I continue to pray for you and Brenda and your children.

Curious Servant said...

And the pendulum swings to and fro.

We went out to dinner last night. Brought home a video (Elizabeth) and watched it in bed.

The night was filled with bad dreams when I was sleeping, and cuddling when I awoke.

The cuddles were deep hugs, warm, tender.

As we began to truly wake I told her I loved her. She hesitated for a bit, and said the same, sounding genuine.

I said that if we love each other then everything will be alright.

She began to talk about her worries over the citizenship issues, especially the hang ups with jeremiah, and how it looks like we will have to take care of him always because the lack of citizenship will prevent him from getting the support he would need to be independent. She spoke about her resentment, and went so far as to say she hates him.

I grew tired of the conversation quickly. Tried to let her know I cared for her while I would not listen to such talk and went off to make coffee.

I'll be at church early again this morning, in 45 minutes.

So... bad dreams about losing my limbs, of monsters chasing my family, warmth and tenderness from my wife, and the crap of our mess rises as we rise from our bed.

The pendulum swings to and fro.

Chris Krycho said...

And as it swings, I see a man who at least knows that every pendulum must have a center about which it swings... and yours is Christ. I wish I had a better metaphor, but I seem to be rather dry at the moment. Still praying for and with you, Will... still check this blog daily and pray for you every time I do, though I rarely comment, for I rarely have anything to say except that I am praying for you. God bless you for your faithfulness and your continued efforts to honor him, care for your children, and love your wife.

Amrita said...

I don 't know what to say Will except that God is with you.