Month: October 2018

The Journal of God, page 1…

Dear Diary,

Your pages don’t exist yet, but I will create you soon so I can write this note. It’s been a strange day. I don’t know what a day is, since those don’t exist either, but let me explain what happened the best I can.

Actually, I can’t explain any of it. All I remember was suddenly being aware of everything. Not just being aware of it, being it all. I am the totality of the universe, whatever a universe is. Weird, eh?

If I was something before this, I have absolutely no recollection. Maybe I existed all along, I don’t know. The only thing definite is my awareness of the everything/nothingness I am. That, and I’m alone.

The experience has been fascinating and trippy thus far, but a major issue has come to my attention – what the fuck do I do now?

Chat soon diary,
God

That was from an often ignored codex found in the Nag Hammadi library. It’s been frequently mistranslated, but, as I was learning to sail this summer, I luckily also learned how to read Coptic Egyptian.

Continue reading The Pen is Almightier than the Sword…

First, a little venting.

This post goes out to the cum-guzzling, fuck-face, turd-munching, sack of shit, meth-head who stole my bike lock and battery charger. Your mother would have been far better off swallowing you than spreading her legs to allow your genetic material to replicate into the epic waste of skin you’ve become. I feel dirty and embarrassed to walk the same planet you exist on, and I feel tainted to breathe from the same atmosphere that sustains you’re worthless ass. Fuck you!

I get the lock thing – it’s a high quality, heavy-duty cable, and the combination was dialled in, so I can understand your pathetic, opportunistic, cum-covered sticky fingers for latching on to that one in a momentary fit of envy. But what the fuck are you gonna do with my battery charger? Answer me that one ball-licker!! It works exclusively in tandem with my bike battery, nothing fucking else. Do you have visions of trading it for another hit of whatever filthy, bathtub-cooked chemicals you’re currently hopped up on? Good luck there, fuckhead. Perhaps you stole it because you needed a new toy to shove up your well-stretched ass. You probably miss the notoriety from your most recent jail sentence when your boyfriend inmates gave you a gold medal for the most cocks plugged simultaneously into your sphincter. Fear not motherfucker, you’ll be back to visit your good time pals soon enough for the winter Cocksucker Olympic Games.

Okay, I think I’m done. And I truthfully feel better. Continue reading Venting and Reinventing

It’s a lot of fun to have this stupidity at my immediate disposal.

When it comes down to it, I’m pretty much just writing to myself. For the most part, no one’s reading this, and no one really cares. If anything, I’m probably offending a lot more people than I’d like to endear in my life, but that’s all part of the fun in testing the waters. Firing off a snippet here and there when I need a change of pace from writing a new book that no one will buy is always a way to get some fresh perspective.

Do I have anything relevant to say in this post?

Of course!

Or maybe not.

It all comes down to relating to people.

Such is the nature of life. I’m a reclusive introvert by nature, but you wouldn’t be reading this malarky if sharing life experience meant nothing to me. Our daily adventures always have the potential to be fascinating and wondrous, but, to me, they always seem a little more real and substantial when they can be shared with someone who cares.

Continue reading Jesus Christ, I Haven’t Been Paying Attention