I really mean it when I say, This isn’t about you and it never was.
My eyes are dark and hollow sockets in a dry and useless head. My pale, thin body carries me scraping the floors, day after day, night after night, mile after mile, loop after loop, through the grim hospital corridors.
I don’t want to talk about death and dying.
I want to talk about now and what you’ve got for me.
And thank you in advance for what I’m soon to take. And It won’t be romantic.
I’ve been praying trying to get over myself for over a week now in the hospital. Still the same prayers walking through the halls. Still the same thirsty and frail, monolithic me just making it through one more night in this sticky, hungry hell. The howling and moaning jackals watching and waiting for the curled up sick people with glowing tv’s and endless bloodstained tubes in their bodies. Every rooms a different flavored party for the night eaters.
Don’t be scared. It’s just us, with our sanctioned beginnings and endings and with no memory left at all. It’s a scary date night but don’t worry, we can offer some relief, there’s a new killer, better than the last in every drawer.
The truth is there is no relief with no memory.
We don’t remember that we’ve been here before in these corridors. And we’re not waiting for anything, we’re in it now. Nobody else is coming to fix the machine that keeps beeping. Your veins are bruised blue and dried up, the blood is gone, all sucked up for tests. The tests they do when you’re not looking.
Open your eyes and stop wandering down these hospital halls praying for someone else. Surrender. Fall to your bony knees and beg and grovel. Surrender to what is to come. So that when the big hand strikes, you’ll come through with some common sense and decency. That’s all.
Because the bullet doesn’t stray. She doesn’t get it wrong. Yes it’s fair. You deserve what happens to you and so if I were you I would think again before you push delete or redo. Because it’s been done, you’ve been shuffled. She knows the card you will pick well in advance.
We didn’t come here to be beautiful light beings who pray for others. That attitude will get us sacked the hard way. We came here to BE others. To be in their shoes. To stop thinking they need our holy prayers as if we’re somebody- no- we came here to BE with them.
We are here to BE WITH OTHERS. In the same way that you sit near a large old tree for shade but the tree doesn’t know or care that you do. The tree isn’t thinking “I’m shading and comforting you” The tree is here with you. Truly here with you and giving effortlessly and spontaneously and honestly.
I do not think we can say the same.
A lot of layers are being stripped and we are in this bardo of intense suffering and we must pray and we must give. But until we have any idea of what that means I’m afraid the horse and pony show continues. Yes, I see what an elitist I am for no reason at all. Someone so special with nothing left to give. Two skinny wobbling legs shuffling through the wasted space of hurting lives- looking, appealing to the wreckage. But no one sees and no one saves. Don’t you get it?
And what’s been the point of it all? This life of leisure and complaining and justification? What’s the point of it dear friend? There isn’t one. We’re wasting time. We are selfish lost fools prancing around finding reasons to matter when in fact we do not.
Everyone has been so kind to me and the human heart is astounding. I’m saying that what lies beyond that simple gesture of truth is absolute nonsense -it’s just us doing whatever we can, as fast as we can do it -to wear our battery down. To come back and do it again, suffer suffer suffer die die die eat eat eat fuck fuck fuck complain complain complain lazy excuses lazy excuses lazy excuses DIE AGAIN. PERIOD.
I have no advice for you. I feel love for you. I have no reason to feel love for you other than you are not apart from me and there is no me.
It’s a long walk down the wedding aisle. Have you even seen Her face? I doubt it. It’s a long night of moaning and groaning until the morning.
My throat is dry. My body is just floating. And I didn’t think of all the names of God when the lights were flashing in my eyes. I thought of us
and I remembered what we’d done and what we’d been through. I thought that we came here born in this heavy hell realm and we came with a heart that could be gold somehow.
I knew that the heroic willingness to do this, to be here suffering, praying in the hospital halls-
as off kilter as we have become -is the most sacred and divine offering of pure warmth.
It’s just the candle burning on both ends my sweetheart.
In our lives, to be so pathetic, so uselessly small and insignificant, and to struggle as we do and to survive covered- hiding these old scars -while protecting the freshly wounded parts- bound in painful memories while thrashed against these jarring truths- makes us kind of exquisite in our own self destructive madness.
What brought us back here, I don’t know. What keeps us going, it’s hard to say. What makes us keep burning for no reason at all other than to shine a dim light in a dark dark place. I don’t know. It’s Her plan. It’s Her Braveheart.
Warm and ready for action.
It’s the mercy of a great God and we should really get out of Her way. That’s what I’m noticing. She’s got more to say than we do. She needs bodies and these need to be strong bodies. Those who can stand the rupturing torments of in between and what it means to move between the three worlds.
Where we are now, where we were born and where will die. We are threading others through Her web for no other reason it seems -other than-it’s worth a try.
Because nobody knows how this human experiment will turn out- but She seems like a perfectionist to me and the training ground is vast- and She’ll do almost anything to make you a worthy vessel of Her display.
There isn’t another time to know Her. The time is now and believe me, she’s got Her list of names
and you are on it.
Gut wrenching. Heart clenching. Get it while you can. I’m still here. I’ll never leave you.