.

it feels good to be able to walk away from things sometimes.

because sometimes you just have to.

i've been standing under this waterfall my whole life. once or twice i got pushed out of it, and man, it's awesome out there. i can breath, i can see, i can... be.

you can't stop the waterfall, man. you can't stop it. don't even try.

just step out from time to time.

once upon a time, in an analogy far far away...

i woke up that saturday morning, as i often did, later than usual and hungering, as i often was, for some kind of connection with some kind of god. so i pondered, as i often did, if perhaps fasting and praying for the day would suffice (this process usually involved the following three things: considering what i ate and what time i ate dinner the night before, gauging how hungry i was at the moment (to see if i could actually make it through the day without collapsing), and what tasks i had before me for the day (i.e. sermon, sabbath school teaching, children's story, etc.)). on this particular day, i decided that abstaining from food would be a good way for me to stay focused on what i thought was important. yes. no food would venture into my mouth for the next 24 hours. i had made my decision. i no longer desired food. food was not something i was interested in.

church was great. i successfully ignored the pangs of hunger.

then, by some cruel cosmic twist of people and places and events, i accidentally stumbled upon the fellowship room where i discovered... the pena's food. enchiladas that only showed up once every month or two. rice that would make your mother weep. the smells alone were enough to take down jericho. and there was enough of them to feed jericho too! (it makes me mad just thinking about it)

"it just had to be today didn't it?! couldn't wait to bring 'em till next week, could you?! you probably put those in the oven just knowing that i was gonna be fasting! how can i pass them up now? it might be another two months before i get another chance like this! i could DIE before i ever see this food again! it looks so good!"

one hour later i could not force another bite of those stupidly delicious enchiladas down my esophagus.

i wish i was...

...homeward bound (remember that one dog?)

...debt free

...still on break

...a motorcycle

...really good at something

...more aware

...rich

...all-knowing

but i'm not and that's ok.

the terror that flies by night, aka the nocturnal nuisance, aka aidsy, aka beast, aka leo, aka the big yellow cat that lives on my dad's bottom floor

during the day, you see him: a slow moving, gargantuan chunk of goodwill in the form of a cat. he's got the hiv, but his body doesn't know it. he just keeps getting bigger and stronger. he walks around at a slow pace taking a nap here, sneaking another over there, welcoming any affection from any passer by, and therefore wins the affections of every visiting guest. "he's just so big and gentle. i love that cat." they would say.

the truth would beg to differ... you see the light switch is connected somehow to a switch in the big animal's brain.

under the veil of darkness he terrorizes his world. he makes an uninterrupted circuit around the entire floor. he starts, for example, leaving a big smelly poop apparently uncovered in the litterbox, then proceeding to attempt to dig to kitty-china through the opposite corner of the litterbox. seemingly unaware that he's reached the plastic bottom of the litterbox, he just keeps on scratching and scratching. once he's had enough of that, he moves to the sliding glass doors of the shower, scraping his claws over the glass again and again as if he's trying to understand this giant invisible barrier. once he's got a satisfactory feeling that those doors really are there, not just part of his little feline imagination, he finds the nearest cell phone charger and first meows twice in warning, then engages in a battle to the death with the piece of plastic at the end of the cord. as soon as he realizes the stupid thing was dead all along, he moves silently to his food dish, containing an endless supply of very dry cat food. there he chews with his mouth open at a volume even my grade school's computer keyboards would find offensive. after a nice four hour meal, the big dolt moves to the back door and pretends like he wants to go out into the frigid world beyond and lets that world know by scratching on that door for a while until he's ready to go find his litterbox start the circuit all over again.

unfair odds

guillain-barre syndrome.

your own immune system attacks your own nervous system.

...

boy, that must suck.

headache

i stood in the din for only a moment.

"what in the world are you all wearing?!" i demanded.

"iron boots." replied one of the thoughts calmly, unmoved by my distress.

"what are iron boots for?"

"walking." said another thought, "duh".

i wanted to pull my hair out!

incessant! walking?!

"well... what are those thoughts doing over there in iron boots?" i struggled to maintain composure.

"line-dancing!"