Confessions

I do have some, you know?

The first, and foremost, being that I've stopped sharing myself in this space. Mostly because when I met a few apples over the past year, the people stopped being strangers and started becoming people that I cared about - more like friends, even family. Now even those of you whom I have yet to meet seem more real. And the more real people are, the more judgmental they tend to be (at least in my mind.) And it's not that I'm calling you judgmental -- it's just that I have a tendency to keep myself from the ones that I care about. It's completely my fault - none of your own.

of course, I haven't shut myself off completely. Now it's more likely that you'll get those 'toothpaste reports' that Melanie wrote about so long ago - I went to the store today, because I needed toothpaste. . . That's never what I intended. Originally I liked the idea of publishing a journal because some of my best writing came from my journals. There have been numerous occasions where I'll pull a thought, or paragraph, or even a single line from a journal entry and that will sprout into a poem, story or song. I liked the way the words flowed from me - without censor or editing. There is a natural beauty that lies within.

So, I'm here confessing this - hoping that it will lead to change. And don't go saying - oh, taliendo, your journal is fine. It's not. If you don't believe me, go back and see some of the earlier entries, before I met and starting caring about you fine people. I've let it censor me, and I an unhappy about that - so thing are going to have to change. I don't want to say "expect to be shocked" or anything so full of vanity. But I will warn you that the mind is wide expanse of terrain - much of it covered in shadows.

My first confession.
. . . . . .

There have been signs and wonders in my life abound lately, and it seems that there is life present in all things, even death or the very real possibility of it.

My Great Uncle Floyd died last Friday. He was a good man, lived a good life and has gone on to meet his maker. At least that's the way he saw life and the hereafter. Two dies prior my Uncle Rick had a massive heart attack and was care-flighted to Lima Memorial Hospital for a quintuple bypass surgery. He is once more breathing on his own, and I'm sure taking the time to hit on nurses when his wife isn't close by. A week before that, my Great Grandpa Eddie Kimbler was in the hospital for chest pain - turns out it was a bad case of indigestion and he's doing fine, especially for a 94 year old man.

These are the pains of having a large (if not oversized) family. There are many blessing along side any discomfort you may feel - you may have to trust me on that one.

And so I've taken the time, or rather my uncle Rhino took the time, to open up the word of God and read from the book Ecclesiastes. God, how I had forgotten how much I loved that book. I've read it and reread it until my mind hurts. I even found a study Bible to see what the concordance might have to say about seperate parts and found the writer telling the reader that we should discount parts of the book. Why? - because it is so full of doubt. It discounts the promise of an afterlife - and questions if there is any meaning to life whatsoever, here on earth.

And does so beautifully - poetically.

And I suppose that it echoes all the doubt that has been crawling through my head for the last couple of years. It's comforting to know that men of God suffered from the same iniquities as the rest of man, the same iniquities we suffer from today.
. . . .

Well, the light in the living room just clicked off, meaning that it's 2:05 in the morning. And I'm so tired that my body hurts. I did want to close this on a positive note, saying, I'm ok. really. I would even venture to say that I'm more than ok, better than ok. Life is slowing down, or perhaps life has always been this slow and I'm starting to learn that I can't run so fast - that when you try to run through it, you just end up falling over and hurting yourself.

So, I'm walking the path -- trotting when I don't watch myself -- and I would love it if you would come walk with me for a pace. You know, if you get bored, or tired, or you just want someone to talk to. I'll see ya then.

-d.