Well… actually the supermarket where I went with my brother BECAME a library. It was an Albertson’s supermarket back when gumballs were 1 cent. 10 pennies gave me some for “now and later”. But what better thing for my childhood santuary to become than a LIBRARY? A place where facts are disputed. In church, adults would come up and say, “Hiiii…”, with their morning/ coffee breath. That evangelized my interest AWAY from this weird stinkin’ place that took me away from my beloved “Musashi” cartoon that played at 8am on Sunday. I was being learned in the doctrine of “WTF is going on?”. Sure, there is reality at church for some.
NOT ME. I’ll go to church to see friends and family, but the closest I get ON EARTH to knowing an all-knowing is the holy mauseleum of hardback. Dead people… authors are still alive. I get a resurrection ANY GIVEN SUNDAY, because my current library, the Ledding in Milwaukie, OR, USA is open Sunday. It’s the most beautiful array of people’s spirited words caught on paper, wholly scripturated, bonded and insured to be of use. Sometimes when I walk by it at night, I wonder how much energy is generated inside even without patrons reading.
In physics, energy at rest at a height is enhergy called potential. I just moved to an apartment that ROCKS… you would think the ghost of Frank Lloyd Wright is spinning around… the library has a great big window overlook, and from where I am sitting, I see I have 14 minutes left on “INTERNET 2”. You, my fan base know maybe I usually write from my jail cell from Hell and I get weekdays off…… oops…. no, I didn’t mean to say that. Syntax sin. Not mortal. No, I blog from a cell phone, not while driving in the Mustang. I pull over to blog. Usually to the middle of the freeway. No, but if I am still here at 80, and I doubt it (I’m going to Hel for writing hot. Speaking of Hel, she’s a little hottie of a Norse goddess. At least she admits she is taking you down.
I love my wife. Whoa, sudden subject change…
Okayl, so my favorite things other than RIPPING on church are:
Writing, Reading… no arithmatic
I love my friends, like Soile in Finland, Shakeel who lives in a war zone in Pakistani Kyber District.
The Ledding Library and chocolate (close)
And driving my Mustang (It makes me feel the power of the Force, whether Sith or Jedi IDK)
And… I love my Betta fish Stanley (Kubrickson) and Foo, my aquatic frog who is a genetic anomalie like myself, having grown a second right arm. “Foo” is short for “FOONF”, German for five. I am multilingual, and like a black flag, like Foo, I have 3 rare diseases- hereditatry angioedema, Immunoglobin G deficiency and Hepatic LDLp production, last level was 1100. I literally walk on egg shells to not have a heart attack at age 39. I’ve already had a few starting at age 15.
So to me, my church is the Library, with a bias for the quiet at the historic Ledding. My conrgegation is everyone and my REAL beliefs about GOD? Hahahaha… I dropped out of Multnomah Bible College because I found answers and wrote a disertation on women’s rights that was CONGRUENT with the Judeo-Christian Pentatuech, namely Deuteronomy, the surfers book of the bible. They were so intent on confronting me, I stressed out and had a heart attack. My Doctor, Dr. Saddoris, now confirms that I was having m.i.s. So, do you know what they do when YOU don’t know how you feel? Mental wing. It was a real trip. No one visited me or found me in 6 or 7 days. 30 Oct- Nov 9, 1998. After being ditched like that, the word “Family” dissolved and I am friendly to everyone like a stray who is confident that being a stray IS home. Like a Disney cartoon or something. Pfff.
Not to worry, because that’s where I found another older gentleman who had heart problems, and Thomas Jefferson’s God met me there. Thomas Jefferson never said what he believed. Hahaha. He said if you like what he DOES, then you must have the same faith. Wiseguy. That’s the difference between thinker philosopher and POLITICIAN of his day. Politicians did stuff. Mere philosophers wrote about the justification for not doing shit. Ralph Waldo Emerson was in a way better than Emily Dickenson. He was involving others with his thoughts and they are workable. Useful. Emily, I think was not so social, but became so after her death. I have a literary soul crush on her when she talks about the yard, spiders and spins existential tales.
Well, I need to check on Foo. I have a life, you know. It’s blogging, er… Facebook… No! Sorry.
I have crap to do. Bye.
[S] Syntaxsinner… …don’t fool yourself. This writing is illegal. No, I’m kidding