I’m ambivalent about this blog. I find that I withhold the best, most prayerful bits. The other day I had a huge epiphany and the first thing I wanted to do was blog about it. But I resisted this with all my weight. I won’t freeze that kind of stuff. I'm so thankful for it that I don't even know how to handle it.
Then, on the other hand, I really, really love bloggers who do not withhold these. They would blog about random things, being moderately inspired, and then suddenly there’s a rawness, a genuineness which leaves me breathless. What they’re referring to feels like my home. Or, should I say, our home.
These are real internet gems, and I’m too defensive even to link to them. Partly because they’re tiny, almost private blogs. Also because I don’t want to praise them nominally. They don’t need that. So I'll just leave a comment or two...
Sunday, 5 August 2007
Late night snack
I had spent the night stranded at Victoria Station, waiting for the early morning coach and reading. Another guy was also waiting there, from time to time he whistled a melancholic French tune into the night. At some point, we decided to go for coffee at the only place that was open, and it was full of people returning from nightlclubs. A guy in dirty clothes had been standing nearby for a while.
D. Are you in the queue?
G. No, I’m not (he moves out of the way to let me through).
D. Um okay, thanks!
(A couple of minutes go by, the queue moves forward, it’s going to be my turn soon. The guy is still there, watching people leave with burgers, bacon sandwiches and whatnot...)
D. Sorry, is there anything you would you like?
G. No no, it’s alright.
D. Um okay, sorry again.
G. (he catches up with me) Wait, if you want to get me something, could I have a cream doughnut?
D. (to the cashier) Can I have a cream doughnut with this please?
G. Thanks.
D. (relieved that he asked) No problem.
I was actually quite happy about this. I thought it was unfortunate that it was probably going to take me a couple of failed attempts until I actually learned to care deeply about strangers (sort of like Christ when he worried about the welfare of the five thousands who had followed him). Still, on that night I had been so weary, tired, hungry and mellow that this guy and I had connected instantly. Judging by the grins on our faces, this wasn’t too bad a start. I wished we lived in the same city.
As a kid I used to scrupulously forgive everyone before church, because I knew we’d have to say the Lord’s Prayer loud and clear (and preferably mean it, too). But lately it’s been hitting home that I’d never been that serious about the “give US this day OUR daily bread” bit. I’ve never been hungry enough to really pray for bread; and as for the daily bread of others, I never really cared about it in any meaningful way. Where this guy is tonight, for example.
D. Are you in the queue?
G. No, I’m not (he moves out of the way to let me through).
D. Um okay, thanks!
(A couple of minutes go by, the queue moves forward, it’s going to be my turn soon. The guy is still there, watching people leave with burgers, bacon sandwiches and whatnot...)
D. Sorry, is there anything you would you like?
G. No no, it’s alright.
D. Um okay, sorry again.
G. (he catches up with me) Wait, if you want to get me something, could I have a cream doughnut?
D. (to the cashier) Can I have a cream doughnut with this please?
G. Thanks.
D. (relieved that he asked) No problem.
I was actually quite happy about this. I thought it was unfortunate that it was probably going to take me a couple of failed attempts until I actually learned to care deeply about strangers (sort of like Christ when he worried about the welfare of the five thousands who had followed him). Still, on that night I had been so weary, tired, hungry and mellow that this guy and I had connected instantly. Judging by the grins on our faces, this wasn’t too bad a start. I wished we lived in the same city.
As a kid I used to scrupulously forgive everyone before church, because I knew we’d have to say the Lord’s Prayer loud and clear (and preferably mean it, too). But lately it’s been hitting home that I’d never been that serious about the “give US this day OUR daily bread” bit. I’ve never been hungry enough to really pray for bread; and as for the daily bread of others, I never really cared about it in any meaningful way. Where this guy is tonight, for example.
Thursday, 2 August 2007
Search For Self Called Off After 38 Years
CHICAGO—The longtime search for self conducted by area man Andrew Speth was called off this week, the 38-year-old said Monday.
Speth sets out on a new life, moments after announcing the end of his search.
"I always thought that if I kept searching and exploring, I'd discover who I truly was," said Speth from his Wrigleyville efficiency. "Well, I looked deep into the innermost recesses of my soul, I plumbed the depths of my subconscious, and you know what I found? An empty, windowless room the size of an aircraft hangar. From now on, if anybody needs me, I'll be sprawled out on this couch drinking black-cherry soda and watching Law & Order like everybody else."
"Fuck it," he added.
(Read the full story at The Onion)
Speth sets out on a new life, moments after announcing the end of his search.
"I always thought that if I kept searching and exploring, I'd discover who I truly was," said Speth from his Wrigleyville efficiency. "Well, I looked deep into the innermost recesses of my soul, I plumbed the depths of my subconscious, and you know what I found? An empty, windowless room the size of an aircraft hangar. From now on, if anybody needs me, I'll be sprawled out on this couch drinking black-cherry soda and watching Law & Order like everybody else."
"Fuck it," he added.
(Read the full story at The Onion)
Calling out
“You’re right, call out. Call out with all your lungs, call out like a newborn, call out like your hungry cat, call out like the blind beggar”
This was my first thought as a wake up. It’s been a while since I felt that desperate actually. That’s no good.
"Hey", I reply, "I’m stuck in tensions and dissonance, I’m feeling too convicted to even play any music. Mmmm... I think I'll pull a David, I’ll set THAT despair to music".
This was my first thought as a wake up. It’s been a while since I felt that desperate actually. That’s no good.
"Hey", I reply, "I’m stuck in tensions and dissonance, I’m feeling too convicted to even play any music. Mmmm... I think I'll pull a David, I’ll set THAT despair to music".
Wednesday, 1 August 2007
This is taking me eons...
Finding the best British bloggers/ communities takes ages, the web is full of Americans and it looks like some sets of ideas have barely reached our shores! Maybe this shows just how disconnected I can be.
Common People
She came from Greece she had a thirst for knowledge,
she studied sculpture at Saint Martin's College,
that's where I,
caught her eye.
She told me that her Dad was loaded,
I said "In that case I'll have a rum and coca-cola."
She said "Fine."
and in thirty seconds time she said,
"I want to live like common people,
I want to do whatever common people do,
I want to sleep with common people,
I want to sleep with common people,
like you."
Well what else could I do -
I said "I'll see what I can do."
I took her to a supermarket,
I don't know why but I had to start it somewhere,
so it started there.
I said pretend you've got no money,
she just laughed and said,
"Oh you're so funny."
I said "yeah?
Well I can't see anyone else smiling in here.
Are you sure you want to live like common people,
you want to see whatever common people see,
you want to sleep with common people,
you want to sleep with common people,
like me."
But she didn't understand,
she just smiled and held my hand.
Rent a flat above a shop,
cut your hair and get a job.
Smoke some fags and play some pool,
pretend you never went to school.
But still you'll never get it right,
cos when you're laid in bed at night,
watching roaches climb the wall,
if you call your Dad he could stop it all.
You'll never live like common people,
you'll never do what common people do,
you'll never fail like common people,
you'll never watch your life slide out of view,
and dance and drink and screw,
because there's nothing else to do.
Sing along with the common people,
sing along and it might just get you through,
laugh along with the common people,
laugh along even though they're laughing at you,
and the stupid things that you do.
Because you think that poor is cool.
I want to live with common people,
I want to live with common people etc...
"Common People" by Pulp
she studied sculpture at Saint Martin's College,
that's where I,
caught her eye.
She told me that her Dad was loaded,
I said "In that case I'll have a rum and coca-cola."
She said "Fine."
and in thirty seconds time she said,
"I want to live like common people,
I want to do whatever common people do,
I want to sleep with common people,
I want to sleep with common people,
like you."
Well what else could I do -
I said "I'll see what I can do."
I took her to a supermarket,
I don't know why but I had to start it somewhere,
so it started there.
I said pretend you've got no money,
she just laughed and said,
"Oh you're so funny."
I said "yeah?
Well I can't see anyone else smiling in here.
Are you sure you want to live like common people,
you want to see whatever common people see,
you want to sleep with common people,
you want to sleep with common people,
like me."
But she didn't understand,
she just smiled and held my hand.
Rent a flat above a shop,
cut your hair and get a job.
Smoke some fags and play some pool,
pretend you never went to school.
But still you'll never get it right,
cos when you're laid in bed at night,
watching roaches climb the wall,
if you call your Dad he could stop it all.
You'll never live like common people,
you'll never do what common people do,
you'll never fail like common people,
you'll never watch your life slide out of view,
and dance and drink and screw,
because there's nothing else to do.
Sing along with the common people,
sing along and it might just get you through,
laugh along with the common people,
laugh along even though they're laughing at you,
and the stupid things that you do.
Because you think that poor is cool.
I want to live with common people,
I want to live with common people etc...
"Common People" by Pulp
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