The Faux Pas Press #198: Give Me More

Night brings fog similar to apparitions I have seen on the outskirts of my feelings. And my mind racing more cleverly than I have noticed – particularly in my youth. Where is it that, in this life or the next, there is peace and prosperity. I have cried now to you with my latest gestures. I have suckled from the tits of nonsense marmalade. And now I see it. Now, I get it. Just give me a little more please. I am desperate. And I need you.

Practicing for the big game. Listening to music that suits my style. Glistening with a light that says I got circulation in my balls now. But how often have I run to her, not realizing just how sick I was – I needed a fucking doctor or a god or a Jesus or all three. I call upon the four corners of the Earth – all cardinal directions. Upon brave Parley Angerbliss. And the drinking has stopped. The fucking has stopped. The smoking has stopped. My fingers on this board give the last addiction. Just give me a little more please. I am desperate. And I need you.

 

So sorry about how it all has gone for you. I know that God must enjoy the company. God’s company need not be earned. Always yearning to be worthy to stand in the presence of the Creator. What creator would not yearn to see his creation? What Father would not sing in harmony with his child’s song? And so harmony exists when we let go of guilt, fear, anger, and the joke that we are not worthy. I am clean now not for him but by him. My fingers moving on this little board – giving me the last great thing that a man can do with full testicles and no place to shoot it. Just give me a little more of this please. I am desperate. And I need you.