This isn't going to work. But I guess I'll try. I said that I would, after all.
My brain is useless right now. Too much NABC Cone Smoker (6028). So I'll let my fingers do the writing. Such as it will probably be.
That last sentence made perfect sense to me, by the way.
I'm supposed to write about faith. This is, believe it or not, something with which I am intimately familiar.
Because I fucking have it.
Not in a supreme being, like too many of my friends. Not in karma, like a lot of my more hippiefied friends. And not even in myself, as I'm so often urged to do.
Fuck that. Who am I to deserve such consideration? Such faith?
I believe in one thing. I trust in one thing. I live for one thing. I have faith in one thing.
Weird, I know.
But it's never wavered, not even once, not even a little bit. Everything else stands on wobbly legs and sways dangerously and threatens to collapse and kill and maim, but love is a fucking rock. It's a rock shored up by other rocks, defended by more rocks, and camouflaged by even more rocks.
I know, that's a stupid series of metaphors. But it's about as true as my fingers can type right now.
People look at me, quite often, like I'm crazy. It used to bother me. But now, now I think they're just jealous.
Because, no matter how unwarranted or undeserved or unjustified or just plain silly and stupid this might be, it's still more real than anything most of those other people have ever experienced.
And it will continue. It will remain. It will last until, eventually, sooner or later, it will be my dying thought.
I have zero doubt about this. This will happen. I have faith in it.