Skip to main content

B is for Comfort

Lately (past four weeks or so), I’ve found that I’m most comfortable on my knees.

Like, right beside my bed. On my knees with my upper body stretched out on the bed itself. Now getting on your knees is oft seen as the beginning process of a prayer and sometimes I’d have one but most times it’s just a sigh; a breathe of relief/release. Nothing to say really – words are meaningless and oft times redundant. Besides, God knows what I want to say before I say it. Truth be told though, sometimes it feels like everything said is a spoon beating against an empty glass so I prefer to just… kneel there.

I have this idea of one time just sleeping there – on my knees BESIDE my bed instead of ON my bed – we’ll see how that fares.

I find that kneeling by my bed with my head resting on the mattress is so comforting. I think that it sort of reminds me if that feeling I used to have a few years back when I would look at the sky and feel like “I don’t belong here. I should be up there…”

And like I said, it’s not just a pray thing although (Al Though – God in spite of…?) I may yet end up saying a word or two. I just… like being there. It’s restful. It… nullifies my evil thoughts… most day. When I think of telling people HOW MUCH of a troglodyte they really are; when I want to exact violence upon the whole earth…. I walk into my room and just pop down. iChuckle.

Hey some people collect stamps. If I’m not writing or editing or washing wares (I find that lil therapeutic too eh just not… pots…often.) could just release on my knees.

There. The End


Popular posts from this blog

B is for Loving Boys

90's boy love - Joey n Chandler....
a moment of randomness between Catharsis videos

There are boys I love. And they love me. And we’re open about it. Just last Saturday I got a text message from one of those boys who said “I love you too man” in response to something I said. My boys are artists, artistes, atheists, and agirl (who is in fact one of the boys so hence the addition to the category) fathers, brothers and high school musicals (Jed and Umar will get that one – lol). We share ideas, music, random nothingness and Brent Worthington . We approve, reprove and listen to each other. I think the girl that I end up with must in fact be like the boys I love. Good looks aside… please… have some substance. One of my boys is appalled that I watched Gossip Girl (if you’re going to bash it… know what it is first) and has for this [and other minor reasons] jokingly labeled me a homosexual. But he who looks like Miley Cyrus with rainbow bandanas should not talk [chuckles]. I love my boys…

Play of the Week WK #6

B is for The Haunting October

--> I first felt it in the shower. Nostalgia. Creeping up my leg and resting on my shoulder. Bony fingers caresses in that sickeningly sweet way nostalgia often does. It was the end of September or the beginning of October... That night in the shower when I remembered an old October, reading poetry at a wine factory; with sandwiches as big as your face. And I remembered two tables. Friends and a girl. And it was October. The sealing of fate. 2008.
Days passed but not before the memory of darkness and a knife. The surgery that changed me... And it was October. October or go to Heaven. 2007.
Time passed and so did my expectations. Fluctuations in blood flow in the head causes heart to flutter for another. Infatuation of the highest order. The beginning of tears and sighs of"it's not fair" and the wandering nature of soul; I'm done, turn me over. And it was October. All my queries I vowed to shelve. 2012.
And Sunday. When I threw the scroll and claimed I was don…