A Sermon to You

Transcribed from an oration this afternoon, to my dog:


It’s not just leaving a sanctuary, it’s not just returning to a sanctuary, or feeling that you are suppose to be in some safe haven, some reserved area for contemplation or awareness. It’s not being in a space or avoiding some space, it’s about being in the absence of space. It’s just being, getting outside of what you feel is confining, what is suffocating you. And it’s not anyone or any thing; it’s just ‘it’: being suffocated. And it’s getting out of that realm which suffocates you, getting out of that existence, moving beyond, knowing that you’re more than that, knowing that you can’t let anything limit you, or anyone or any…place. Cause your sanctuary is not where you live, it’s not where you hole yourself up, it’s not where you lock the door and put the world on hold; it’s inside you, man. Fuck churches, fuck any of it. Fuck mosques. Fuck schools. Fuck your mother’s house or your father’s passenger seat. Fuck all that man, it’s not about a warm fire; it’s about not being anywhere, except in yourself. All you can do is reside in what you have, find your perception. It’s nothing else, nothing more, nothing less; it’s all it is. You can’t assume that one thing is influencing everything, that one instance, one motion, one decision or indecision is going to have a play on the rest of your existence or maybe just today’s. Because that’s not what it is; everything is in fucking cycles, everything comes and goes, everything is beautiful and ugly. Everything is moving so fast; you assume that you can’t handle it or it’s too much, or you need to slow down but…it’s not gonna slow down, you can’t slow any of it down except the way you perceive it and how much you’re willing to except what is there and what’s gonna be there regardless of you acknowledging it. It’s what it is, it’s what we are, it’s what everyone is. And you can deny it, but your denial is not gonna be accepted, not even by you. So settle with that. Settle with whatever you think it is you are suppose to settle with. Choose whatever battles you want to fight and fight them to their erroneous and irrelevant end. Cause it’s nothing more than pen and ink, nothing is, and that’s just it.



And if it was an invasion of some privacy, or some imperial standing, I apologize. You know, I had no idea there was such sanctity among those quarters. It was never made apparent to me that this haven was restricted from serendipitous beings. But you make the calls on what you want to do with everything, if your existence is that and your sanctuary is being there and being consumed in contemplation or the lack of, then that’s the hand you’re gonna play, and that’s the deal you’re gonna get. And no one can complain, especially yourself, because that’s what you’ve chosen. But you mustn’t come around in weeks’ time wondering what could have been or what wasn’t or what you’re glad you didn’t do or regret not having done. Because that’s it, everything passes, everything is in cycle, everything moves, and nature takes the easiest path possible, water will choose the path of least resistance. And that’s what we tend to do in our natural wanderings, but that’s not what is shown here man. I couldn’t find more fallacy and obstruction then what’s been present. It baffles me, absolutely baffles me; it’s fucking crazy, man. Who would have known this would have been the mission of someone that I assumed so differently about. And maybe that’s just it; maybe assumptions are the plague of everything that’s wrong in this world. Maybe assumptions are what lead us into such dark recesses, believing we will never see sunshine again, assuming things won’t get better or they always will. But whether assumptions are bleak, or ambivalent or rewarding, they are there and we will keep making them and keep faulting from them. I just hope it’s a lot less, and I hope we are made aware, whether we continue or not. Because it’s all we got, time, it’s all we’ll ever have, and we just try to make the best of it. And I hope you can, I hope this world can. I hope we can reconcile everything we have ruined, that we can have some chance of getting out, getting by, and getting on and making due. But I don’t know if it’s possible, I don’t know if anything is possible anymore. But I know that I’ll move on to…something else, something worse before better, then better before going back again. So is life, and so is reality and everything we’ve encountered and will encounter again, until the time comes when we stop assuming and everything will make sense and be without reticence, in it’s place and proper and beautiful…and ugly and real. Because it can’t be right and it can’t be good, unless there is pain and unless there is some ugliness. Because otherwise everything is beauty and everything is empty. And that’s it.



Of course I wish it wasn’t so, wish there wasn’t a vendetta against…those who admire or those who want to be a part. I wish there wasn’t so much hatred and misunderstanding that came with those assumptions. Because it’s not all hatred, there’s so much beauty in it all, if we’d only take the time to not overanalyze, take the time not to explore. Just let things be for what they are, nothing more, nothing more. We can’t go on predicting what we want; deterring what we think is bad. Because it’s all gonna arrive, and fall and ascend and climb, produce, regardless of whether we extinguish it, it’s gonna happen. And denial, I guess, is part of it, denial is part of understanding what we are, and what we have and don’t have; denial is part of growth, denial is part of everything, and it’s death and birth incarnate. But there is love unbridled somewhere in the world and I try to seek it out. I try to find it in anything, in what was and what we can’t explain, because it’s out there; that’s all we have, knowing there is something out there unbridled, that there is something wild about us, about all this. Something that’s beyond classes and work, waiting tables and tips, and emails and phone calls, and late night ramblings, lonely well-wishings; there is something beyond it. And there is something that makes it all seem alright, that we’re not just striving for something that is empty, something that has moved on, something that is extinct or has evolved. But fuck, evolution is everything; evolution is why we’re here, evolution is what made us, evolution is the most beautiful thing we can conceive, and that’s it. Once more, that’s it. It’s death and resurrection, it’s evolution and mutation, it’s beauty…unbridled. Cause the hemlocks can’t arrive without the limestone eroding, and the roots can’t reach the water without there being a surplus or deficency, some reason to keep going, some reason to keep growing, some reason, I guess, just to believe. And I’m trying, like anything else…



So take it back, whatever consequences serve you. Take back whatever keeps you afloat or makes you sing. Whatever serves the dichotomy you are trying to make due with. Whatever odds and ends make your transition. Everybit, take it.

Take the well-wishes, the good intentions, the kindness, the happy smiles, the orgasms; take the gestures, the anger and sadness, man; take every part of it inside and out. Take the little kisses and big embraces, take the warm and cold, take the sheets and fan. Take the foil that keeps it warm and the hands that keep the ticket. Take the petal and bloom before the bud, cause if you never wanted it, it shouldn’t have been planted. Pull the plug on the drain, and take it with you, in case you need to stop up something else down the road. Because this one has drained, and it will be seasons before it returns. But you seem to have a good grasp, a good understanding; you seem to know what you want, and maybe we just don’t.

If this is it, call off the guard and throw in the towel. Return the books, but keep the rest, for whatever sake it might serve. Maybe it will give a reason to hate, or hope, or love.