"God talked to me." How? Did you have a magic seashell that you hold up to your ear? What kind of voice does God even have? Squeaky? A squeaky ass voice?

I used to hear that a lot when I was REALLLLLY into Jesus as a teen. "God talked to me." It was usually from speakers at youth conference. It confused me. The doubt eventually set in. Today I talk in tongues in a different way.

If you have all the answers, you will try to fuck me over.

I believe in something undefined by me because if it was defined I'd be a Grade A asshole.

I believe that the clouds parted and that the universe did give me signs when it was time to move to Toronto three years ago. No, TO is not the be-all end-all, it's...okay,  but I do not regret the decision. I've learned a LOT!

One year later, after the move,  I was in a deep mire. Oh woe, my baby left me! Ha ha! Where's the magickal career I was 'promised'? Ha ha! So I took every little thing as a sign to give up. My ego had entered the picture. I was forcing my will. And ignoring all the voices of all the real, actual living people surrounding me telling me not to give up.

Now when I ask myself, "Should I give up?" I say, "Fuck it." I don't care enough to give up. I care enough to keep going, to convey a sense of wonder in an age where one has to dig for it. And so much else is bullshit anyways. Cat is fed. Rent is paid. I don't matter all that much and that's fine. Fuck it. Thanks universe!