To Inspire a Dream...

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Birthday

Sugarcubes
Life's Too Good (1988) (and/or) The Great Crossover Potential (1998)
Birthday


She lives in this house over there
Has her world outside it
Scrapples in the earth with her fingers and her mouth
She's five years old

Thread worms on a string
Keeps spiders in her pocket
Collects fly wings in a jar
Scrubs horse flies
And pinches them on a line
Ohhh...

She has one friend, he lives next door
They're listenening to the weather
He knows how many freckles she's got
She scratches his beard

She's painting huge books
And glues them together
They saw a big raven
It glided down the sky
She touched it
Ohh...

Today is a birthday
They're smoking cigars
He's got a chain of flowers
And sows a bird in her knickers
Ohhh...

They're smoking cigars
They lie in the bathtub
A chain of ... flowers

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Drunk people...

Stink. I gotta find a new job. Preferably one without drunk people.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Deus

The Sugarcubes - "Deus"

(Björk)
Deus does not exit.
But if he does, he lives in
the sky above me,
In the fattest largest cloud up there.
He's whiter than white and cleaner then clean.
He
wants to reach me.

Björk)
Deus does not exist.
But if he does I always notice him.
Getting ready in his
airy room.
He's picking his gloves so gently off.
He wants to touch me.

(Björk)
I'm walking
humbly down a tiny street,
Pulling my collar it gets
bigger,

(Einar)
I once met him,
It really
surprised me,
He put me in a bath tub,
Made me squeeky
clean,
Really clean.

(Björk)
To create a
universe
You must taste
The forbidden fruit.

(Einar)
He said hi. I said hi,
I was still clean.

(Björk)
Deus does not exist,
But if he does
he'd want to get down from that cloud,
First marzipan
fingers then marble hands,
More silent than silence and
slower than slow,
Diving towards me.

My collar
is huge room for two hands,
They start at the chest and
move slowly down.

(Einar)
I thought I had seen
everything,
He wasn't white and fluffy,
He just
had side burns,
He just had side burns,
And a
quiff,
He said hi.
I said hi. I was still clean,
I was squeeky clean.
I was surprised.
Just as you
would be.

(Einar & Björk)
Deus, Deus, Deus,
Deus
(Björk)
He does not exist

( Repeat
'til the end)

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Why do I always get got?

Open scene: Our young man emerges from the local general store and is confronted by a woman and her teenage son. Claiming to be victims of Hurricane Katrina, they are in desperate need of $15 to buy a tire to get to Houston. The tire costs $65, they only need $15. Not having cash on hand, he wishes her well, yet says he can't help. He is moved with compassion, yet wary of her, having heard of similar circumstances leading to getting got. Falling for a scam. She persuades him, begging that he use his plastic to get only $15. Two days later, he is called by his brother, who works at a tire shop. The call revealing that this woman has been scaming people for days and has only just scammed the young man's church and pastor. Our young man feels like a fool, angered and betrayed. Close scene.

Open scene: Many months later, in a different town in a different state, our young man is presented with a man begging outside a grocery store. The man is ruddy, dirty, and asking for money. He's been seen there before. Not wanting to throw change in his face, our young man stops, inquires of the beggar his name, and chats for a short while. Upon the close of the conversation, the young man shares what little change from his pocket. Not much. He sees the beggar a few times after that, dirty and asking for money outside the grocery store. One night, weeks later, upon parking his car blocks away from his apartment, our young man spies the beggar. What is seen is not a dirty man asking for money, but a man in a nice, expensive looking Nike sweatsuit, complimented by expensive looking sneakers. The clean beggar is strolling along, singing to himself. Or is he just talking? Again, the man turns away disheartened, having gotten got. Close scene.

Open scene: A few months later, after having lived in this new town for a while, our young man is confronted by beggars almost on a daily basis. His heart goes out to them, yet he knows not who needs help and who is scamming. On top of that, he is not a man of the means and knows he cannot give to each beggar that confronts him. While replacing his windshield wipers, a woman approaches. Early thirties, dark dark skin, slightly overweight she calls out to him as she comes near. She is obviously distressed, sweating, holding out her drivers license she says she is in town from Tennessee. She has followed a man far from Tennessee, and he has beaten her. Her name is Merribelle. If only she can get to Friday, she says, she will be on a bus back home. She is hungry, looking for a meal, not money, and she is 4 months pregnant. Walking to a nearby grocery store, the beggar's grocery store, our young man proceeds to buy her a sandwich, some fruit, and a Sprite, all with his plastic. He gives her the food wishing her well, she thanks him, God blesses are exchanged, and he is back to his wipers. Warm feeling, help having been given. Close scene.

Open scene: Two weeks later, our young man finds himself in that very same grocery, buying odds and ends. From his right he hears a laugh. Instinctively he turns to the direction from which it came. Merribelle stands before him, casually hanging out with those who appear to be friends. No distress, no apparent hunger or weariness, and not in Tennessee. She is casual, enjoying herself and her friends. Our young man realizes that once again, he has gotten got. Close scene.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

A Haggard Existence

So most of you are probably wondering what I think about the whole Ted Haggard story, right? (of course, why wouldn't you be wondering what I think?)

I had a dream today that I think sums it up pretty well. Today I laid down at around 11am to get some sleep, (11am! Are you serious Tim? Heck yes I'm serious, I have to work tonight from 11pm to 7am, I need all the sleep I can get.) So anyway, I'm kind of in that hypnagogic state right as I'm falling asleep and I start to think about the whole Haggard deal. I find myself wanting to be angry at the man for telling people week after week about being pure and loving Jesus, yet possibly being a hypocrite the whole time. I think about seeing him on news stories in the past where he criticizes other Christians who don't believe exactly like him (the most recent story about a month ago.) I think about how he often comes off as incincere, arrogant, and fundamental.

Yet this weird dream-yet-I'm-controlling-what-I-think-and-do state finds me kneeling at steps (sort of like steps at the Lincoln Memorial, a place I've never been) at crying for him. I'm crying because if these allegations are true (which I have no opinion either way,) then I pity him for the torment of having to hide these things for the past three + years. The pain and agony he must have felt not having someone to confide in, not being able to open and honest about his struggles, feeling that there was no one to turn to. Maybe I'm projecting too much on him, maybe he didn't feel any of this and had no problem speaking out of both sides of his mouth, or maybe the allegations are completely false, I don't know.

But if they are true, even if parts of the allegations are true, which seems to be the case, I feel bad for him.

I don't really like the guy, but I pray that he finds peace and he can resolve this issue in the best possible way with the best possible outcome for all involved.

But then again, this just might be a dream after all.

My Attempt at Transparency...

So I want to be transparent, but I want to guard that transparency. I want to be known, yet I don't want to reveal. I'm scared to be known because I feel that I've never been known, at least not really known. In one of my classes the other day, we had this quote from an article (sorry, didn't write down who wrote it, but it's safe to assume it's a really smart guy/gal) "...being known inside out is their most dreaded nightmare and their most fervent wish."

This just about sums up my experience so far, I'm scared to death to be known deeply, because then you have ammunition to not like me. I think back to many of the relationships I've had over the years and how I withheld parts of myself because I was afraid if someone saw too deeply they wouldn't like me. Yet how am I to have a serious, honest, real relationship (community) with someone if I'm not open and honest? Not that I have to tell my deepest, darkest secrets to everyone I meet, (Imagine, "Hi Bob, I'm Tim. I used to wet the bed when I was a kid and sometimes I lie awake in bed daydreaming about adventures I'm too scared to take in real life.)

When I'm in a relationship with someone (not a romantic relationship,) I can't help but think, "Why would this person even want to know anything about me? Why would I burden them with who I really am, let's just keep it superficial. Yet, it's my most fervent wish that I didn't have to keep me bottled up in me, that I could be real and share and be known. But who would want to know? This is why I'm convinced that I have no clue how to have an adult relationship. I've never done it before. I've sorta inched into uncomfortable territory with few in the past, but I always keep most of me hidden. I don't want to anymore, but I will. Don't worry, I will. I pray that I learn how to let others in.