let me tell you about the nature of god

[MRSAnary]

after i was at the mission in eugene for four days, i didnt feel as sick. i lay up under the bridge in my sleeping bag dozing off and on and periodically mackerbaiting. the first train south that stopped i got on. i had all my clothes on. i got back into my sleeping bag and wrapped up in my tarp and lay between bundles of rebar. the train stopped in the yard. the sun went down and it started to drizzle and a little later we were moving. it was pretty at nite in the evergreen trees and it started to drizzle again then it was icy then it was snowing and i woke in the morning in snow it was very pleasant. it stockton i stepped out and was exhausted from still being sick. i hitchiked on a ramp for the interstate. i was blowing my nose every couple minutes. cigarettes were becoming unappealing. my sign read mordor. i wondered, maybe people think it says murder. i wrote, fiji. someone pulled over. a pretty permed young lady steps out and she is in a hurry and she says almost offhand to me, you going to fiji? im not going down the road but i can take you to a church conference im going to. i got in the car with her. i asked, what kind of church is it. she said it was pentecostal. i thought, hrmm. on the way to the church she got lost and we had to reroute on the gps and at one point she nearly sped thru a red light and i said, uh uh uh, and she slammed on the brakes. we found the place. then we went to the cheesecake factory and there were a dozen of us, all in suits and dresses except me, at a big table. i had chicken marsala. b/c this was a group arrangement, we each had to select from four entrees. after, i had ice cream. they saw i liked the ice cream. it was some kind of special italian kind of ice cream with an italian name, i think, i had never had it before, and they asked me did i like it, and i said i sure did it was excellent. then someone gave me his ice cream. then his wife gave me her ice cream. i remember good conversations. the pastor was at the head of the table. other senior pastors and assistant pastors and that sort of thing were seated around him at that end. they talked confidently. i talked diffidently, but with a loud goofy awkwardness to compensate, so it worked out. after that, the young lady, who really was very permed and pretty, she drove me to a goodwill and went with her as she went clothes shopping. i felt deja vu. she wanted to buy me something, but i diffidently demurred. i went outside to smoke a cigarette b/c she was taking so long. when i went back in, she was at the cash register and the cashier lady was saying, yeah i think target does sell converse. i thought, hrmm. then we walked to the target on the other side of the strip mall. i remember she asked if we should drive or walk. we talked and got along well. inside the target she bumped into a church friend. she told him to go get some emergen c to help me get over my grippe. then she led me over and said i should pick out a pair of shoes. i remember, at one point she said, what about these? nah, these are gay, huh? i thought that was weirdly unbecoming of her pentecostal self and funny also. she bought me a pair of chuck taylors then we went to the church. they played funky bebop gospel. there was a bass guitar, a saxophone, a guitar, drums. they were up there along with the singers rocking out. people in the church were dancing and two stepping and waving their hands. then the music died down and the pastor got up there and he prayed over the offering and the offering plate was passed around and the pretty permed lady got up on stage and the pastor introduced her and she sung a song. she was a great singer and passionate up there on stage in front of everyone and she looked so pretty and full of life and she sang a sad song about her past and about being a young runaway and being young and taken in by a foolish strong young man and she sang about her daughter. i understood then in what way she had related to me. well, the guest revival preacher got up there and huffed and puffed and kept slapping his bible into his palm and raising hell's own hullabaloo about the gates of hell not prevailing against the church. and then. oh boy and then. then they had the laying on of hands, and the already roudy congregation went berserk. people were spinning in circles, hands raised, chests being beaten, crying loudly in tongues, pastors' hands being slapped against unwitting foreheads and bodies dropping left and right like the premiere of some batman movie (too soon?), and at one point i yawned and i got one of those tears in my eye like how you sometimes get with a yawn, and just at that moment an old lady was walking down the aisle and she saw me and thought that i was crying b/c it was all so moving, and she came over and asked if she could call over some people and prayer over me. i said, sure. then the revival preacher and the other elders and pastors came over and scooted down my aisle and they encircled me and laid hands on me and prayed fervently and cried loudly in tongues, and i thought, i certainly will be a son of a gun if i actually miraculously start speaking in tongues right now too. but i just sat there and then the preacher was fervently telling me a story about an nba prospect who had it all then blew it all on drugs and became a homeless man then found the lord then had it all again, this time truly tho, and i looked him square in the eye as he told me this story and what do think i saw in those hard blue eyes? after the sermon i milled around the foyer with everyone else. i talked to a girl who was nice and down to earth and when she asked me about my life she responded sincerely and not in some church proselytising context and she sincerely thought i was interesting. we talked to two boys in suits. they asked what i thought. i said something polite. i asked them what they thought about this and that vis a vis the bible and modern living and american society and so forth. we sat down and they answered my questions and they made good points and i made good points. that nite it was arranged that i would stay at the house of the girl i had met. she was also friends with the pretty permed one. we drove down to modesto and i slept on the leather sectional in the living room. in the morning her mother was in the kitchen getting ready for church. she spoke no english and i tried to smile to show that i was not a crazy murderer and am sure i came across as just that or at the very least a petty douchebag. then her daughter came out looking pretty as a daisy and i drank some water and was ready to go, having slept in my clothes. and thus began the second day of the pentecost revival festivities. which is a story for another day. actually its the same story, its all the same story, im sure, but it is for another day nevertheless. a couple days later i would be taking a much needed afternoon nap in a nice big old auto repair shop turned squat in the godawful town of manteca. there were some nice people there, too.

 

[ped]

So you had a nice time with people feigning servile piety for their own unabashed selfishness? That's how all cults work. Look deeper.

 

[MRSAnary]

no, you look deeper. the entire fiasco was absurd. thanks for telling me how cults work, tho. i didnt know that.

 

[ped]

No problem. Don't drink the magic elixir!

 

[Earth]

air is god, without it we dont exist.
good story....
reinforces my beliefs of going it alone.

 

[MRSAnary]

wai wai wait hold on. ped, either you are being very silly or i am, but maybe we're orbiting each other a little bit? i think maybe youve not been such a discerning reader? maybe not picked up on some subtlety, irony, sarcasm? thats ok b/c im a cocky subtle ironic sarcastic son of a bitch. sometimes. but, even when im speaking fork tongued out the side of mouth, im still speaking from the heart. what i mean is, i do know that these pentecostal people are absolutely nuts. the moment that lady told me that that was her denomination, i knew i was in for a shitshow. but the thing is, the shitshow isnt just exclusive to the pentecostals, and its all the same to me, and im just interested in getting to know and experience individuals just a little bit, one individual at a time, in a way thats honest and not so influenced by society and culture and cults and other big bad buzz words. even people who flail around in their shamefully hid away little church caves and babble in the name of their false gods and so forth, even these people are still human beings, and im of the belief that you can discern and connect with that humanity even in the most fucked up of people. no one is ever hopelessly and totally too far gone. the mind can go down roads to myriad forms of craziness, but the mind is still powerful enough to come back. believe in people. even the lost. have compassion and love them. if i was born and bred in different circumstances, who knows, maybe i couldve ended up being like them. there was a point when i didnt care and i made decadent use of the comforts of my little world. then i did look deeper and saw that people are fucked up and everythings fucked up. then that lead me from idealism and optimism to ennui, anomie, disillusionment, nihilism, hedonism, blah blah blah up and down and back around, i did a couple loop dee loops between faith in humankind and misanthropy and angst. now, tho, i rarely articulate those feelings of my past. i dont know how i feel. its a lot of things and its confusing, probably. its ambiguous and ambivalent. its contradictory nonsense. so i let it simmer down there. i do my own thing and try to encounter people from without all the bullshit. and when i see it in others, such as these pentecostal folk, i dont dismiss them out of hand, i see they are as human as i am and i could just as easily be as weak and frail of mind as that. this thought strengthens my resolve and humbles me and helps me to live more fully and thankfully, helps cut down some of my egocentrism and teaches me how to retain my independence and my sovereignty while still being patient and forgiving enough to help others by being of service to them. even in small, unremarkable ways. even if they think theyre better than me, or that they are a saint and im a sinner. i dont need to be in the company of my peers. i dont need to be amid like minded people to be able to fully be myself and enjoy myself and what life has to offer. in meekness, i can be stronger than that. oogles, pentecostal pastors, lot lizards, mexican migrant workers, my blood family, strangers, friends, ex lovers, hipsters, those annoying rainbow people, and whatever other thing in the great taxidermy of the worlds culture--i can have an authentic experience with any, and let them see what i am.

 

[Deleted member 125]

i feel dumber for having read this entire thread.