The memory of smoke

The memory of smoke

Monday, September 29, 2014

Good to the last drop

If only it would dry up a bit sooner. No, not talking about the rain. It can keep on raining.

Rain is wonderful.

Monday, September 22, 2014

Onto the breach

Perhaps why I've been in more pain, clumsy. Beer is a comfort. Three and a half weeks, it should have been more.

Bugger, as per.

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Bravery of oblivion

In some ways, I prefer the literal believers, if only because I know where they stand. The bible is exactly factual, and I'm going to hell. They pity me, hate me, fear me, because I don't believe in their concrete god.

It's the other ones, who say they believe, who think less of me because I don't, even though they seem to think underneath I really do believe what they do. If asked to define their god, they demur. No need to take their comfort away from them, but leave me out of the argument. Cowards.

A god either needs propitiation, a personal sort of god who dispenses justice or punishment in an ineffable way. Or god is a distant abstract in need of no worship.

Either way, I'm not buying it. We care, so we are the embodiment of life, not separate from it. Droplets of water sprayed above a cresting wave, looking back on the ocean in awe. Why does there have to be more? Why does anyone want another life with these exact thoughts and feelings? Just because we weren't paying enough attention the first time? Too bad. Next time it will be different, we will be different.

Give us alcohol, drugs, a hard hit on the head, a disease that affects the brain, and we are no longer who we were, no longer seeing the world the same way. Why would we think our personality would survive the death of our brain and body?

I don't need the pity of those too afraid to let go of the idea of a divine mind taking care of us. I'm fine with the idea of attending to every moment, savoring or wasting it doesn't matter, still all I get as "I". Pass the torch, drop back down, or evaporate up, become the sea again.