Gramercy, The Journey of Jack Lewis. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  The Happy Couple

 

Jack had finished the story by the time Kate was long out of the shower. Now that he had come to, he decided that although the author of these stories was very talented he was also greatly disturbed, or at least in a very dangerous state of mind when he wrote these.  Jack figured maybe it was a fine line between genius and crazy.

Her return broke him out of his feast of literature, and he directed his attention to her lovely, curvy, soft pale body.  He grew hard as instinct began to take over.  He wanted to be with her now, and not the books any more.

 

“I see you’ve got quite the collection here,” Jack commented on the room full of Poe and Shakespeare. As he got up and gently kissed her on the neck and snuck a soft hand down the back of her towel.

 

“Oh, well thank you,” Kate said in that tender, erotic whisper that was her bedroom voice.   He had such strong hands yet such a delicate touch.  Jack’s kisses slowly began to trail down her back.  “Yes, I really love reading.”

 

`“Me too,” Jack said as he moved her arm up, allowing the towel to fall so that Kate stood naked, wet, and helpless, Jack’s lips got closer to their target.

 

“I try to read everything, classics, contemporaries, obscure authors and works, essays, journals, but my personal favorite, are my art books.  I love art, Oh my god!”  She wasn’t going to be able to contain herself anymore.

 

Jack began to dig his tongue deep into her as she tried to carry on, but she just couldn’t.  For some unknown trail of time Jack buried his tongue and two fingers into her body as fast and gentle as he could until the inside of Kate’s legs were gushing and sopping wet, and her screams of pleasure echoed throughout the house.

 

The two needed a minute to catch their breath in between their loving and congratulatory kisses of climaxing.  “Would you like to read with me?”  Kate said in a sudden spur of smiles, love, and inspiration

 

“Sure,” said Jack as the two laid down on the bed to rest.  “I read that last book while you were in the shower.  The guy who wrote it is pretty twisted…”

 

“That’s nothing, you should read Naked Lunch,” Kate interrupted

 

“Anyway,” Jack carried on.  “I’m kinda tired of reading, so why don’t you read to me, while I just lie at your side and kiss you until my lips are sore?”

 

She kissed his chest in order to signal that this was a splendid idea.

 

Kate picked out a book and the two made themselves comfortable on the bed.  Kate made herself some tea and Jack poured himself a strong full glass of bourbon.  Kate showed Jack the book, it was a collection of essays and poems by the same looney who wrote the other stories.  Jack wondered why she was so fixated with the author,  but he didn’t care. He was just glad to be with her and to listen to her read.

 

She carried on  and she began in that amazing theatrical style she did so naturally while Jack cupped her left breast and kissed her neck, gently finding his way down her stomach to the bottom of her leg and back again.  He did it soft enough to make her smile and not distract her from the reading.  She selected her favorite poems and began.

 

wishes by crazy modernisms and former external instincts.  

By natural unnatural intoxication knowledge.

Depraved yet smiling on another winded day.

But so of another wandering light of love on milton forgotten days.

What so can be said of a forbidden lust and wandering capture.

What escape and what a love of such a word of that and what!

By lyric

By center and by try these all and forever will and will not,

ever by light of the modern, and the former, and the knowledge,

 

and the forgotten days.

 

“Beautiful,” exclaimed Jack.

“Yes, it is a good poem isn’t it?” replied his love.  “It reminds me a lot of e.e. cummings.:

“No,” exclaimed Jack.  “The way you read it.”

His love blushed and turned the page, carried on with another poem as he continued his kisses up and down her body.

The Story’s Answer Part 3

I did not mean it,

I did not mean to,

I did not wish to

burn my scripts

and lines

but I did, I did it

as a projection of

my own dreary 

ways.

Blue hearts to black,

that is the lyric,

that is what I did 

with my poetic paints,

So forevermore,

I must bare your witness,

I did not mean to be selfish.

That is Fear!

Fear is selfish,

Fear is the only cruelty.

All Evil stems from

Fear,

and all Fear is from Evil.

All are spawned

of deeds or an ignorant

and fortuitous self.

There is no pride in this past,

but there is a lesson,

there is knowledge.

Its truth not relative,

nor subject.

The opinion of the dregs 

means nothing,

but to a smart messiah

it means everything.

It was only to get by,

it was imagined,

it was a mistake but

those mistakes are lessons.

Strength can be weakness.

No apology will do what

needs to be done,

Apologies are only words,

not actions,

what actions?

It was an act

in retribution in

attack and attacks

are out of fears.

Shallow fault and

disposition.

Parchment fall of

the victim’s victim.

There is no more I.

Self of thy in equation,

in the so called

so called

of the cruel social standard.

What is a culture’s construction?

Why be ye cruel world!?

To give birth

to such an evil concept

known as fate,

known as greed,

known as isolation.

Who will hear these words?

Will history?

Will family?

Will narcotic rages?

Will the fate transcend?

What is one question too many?

What more?

What else?

So many narrated floats

and drifts,

Thoughts sworn trumpet 

and fluid.

No verb nor lineage

royal or not.

Never tell a child

to prepare for the worst.

Never tell a child

you can’t trust anyone.

Trust and love,

be prepared for the worst,

but don’t expect it.

Patience isn’t fun

but it’s worth it.

No new chapter,

No new story,

I need isolated conscious peace

Humble readings from patience

later misspelled

respelled 

and uncast

undue

unwanted

unexpected

unneeded.

Yes each work 

lacking flow

piece peace or

piece 

Peace’s repeated

understand.

What divides me from

such drawn and defeated men?

Once self delusion,

now truth,

Personal drawn conflict

in the presence of

or a thought.

Have hope,

victory assured,

conflict,

Oh, indeed a must

is not even 

a humble comedy

true comedy

the slaughter of

the gladiators.

Was not a story’s

suffering the reason for your escape.

No more out to

abridge certain lies,

personal delusion,

drink up, you are beyond safe.

I feel victory

is not assured,

it is a guarantee

why escape only

to return,

besides habit.

Do not think 

of exemption,

Think of effort,

think of the timeline,

think of escape,

think of every-time

who truth did

sting

but ring beautiful,

I will not end my trance

I will not escape,

prepare and drive,

drift self,

carry on the path.

Escape from these sights

I have every reason to ask

what escapes.

Nothing, witness it,

only witness.

These names slip,

but so do yours,

bare no judgement

this is pattern,

this is habit,

this is what

Thompson was talking about.

Three Thompsons in my life,

my past,

one wise, one crazy, one drunk.

Bare no wisdom,

no true wisdom,

bare no pride

no true achievement,

is old war propaganda true?

Do loose lips not sink ships?

Does not careless talk cost lives?

No true word, 

I despise the words

witch,

whore,

slut,

fag,

nigger,

these words burn my tongue.

I renounce nothing, 

but i hang my head,

but no guilt

I apologize,

but I have no guilt.

Simply responsibility.

Mr. Middleton’s Water Works

He sat at the desk in front of his classroom, his undershirt drenched with sweat to the point that the puddles in his armpits began to seep bitter, disgusting odors. Mr. Middleton prayed that they couldn’t smell it. The last thing he needed was to give the students fodder, they came up with plenty of that on their own.

It is against the law for a teacher to leave any classroom unattended when there is a class in session. Even for a second, or the minimal sixty seconds that Mr. Middleton needed. Just sixty seconds to run down the hall and back.

But he wasn’t allowed to, at least not now, not until 11:45, not until the kids were off to lunch.

He did everything to fight looking at the clock, it seemed time passed faster the less he checked the clock. He just kept his gaze locked onto the students. He was doing everything he could to suppress the twinging and hemorrhaging pain that was the water-balloon in his crotch.

He would now look around his classroom, desperately trying to get his mind on something else. He’d look at his students as they gently conversed about the textbooks in front of them. He would look at the posters and projects that he had decorated his room with over the years. He would look everywhere, except at that damn clock.

But every once in a while, without helping it, he would in fact glance up at that damn clock.

11:38.

7 minutes.

“Christ,” shrugged Mr. Middleton under his breath, careful to make sure none of the students heard. “Seven whole fucking minutes,” he now thought to himself. “Seven!”

Mr. Middleton was biting his inside lip he was so tense. It was times like this he wished he could swear in front of his students, it would really relieve some of the tension in these kinds of situations.

He hadn’t realized it but he was staring at the clock again, making each turn of the outdated clock’s hands feel like days upon days themselves.

The sweating doubled, the swelling in his groin felt like a latex glove, full of air waiting to burst. He began to grit his teeth while he watched the hand finally lop forward that all too important centimeter.

11:39, 6 minutes until lunch.

When he realized he was staring at the clock again, he immediately went back to shifting his gaze about trying to find some magical way to make the time pass faster, or just make the damn swelling go away. He crossed his legs, he shifted the weight in his chair, from his tailbone, to his left butt cheek, to his right, then back to his tail bone.

Some of the students were already packing up and ready for class to be over. They had noticed the constant shifting and discomfort in the face of their English teacher. Some began to laugh and giggle and whisper to each other as if Mr. Middleton couldn’t hear. He could hear them but he didn’t care. He was too focused on his ballooning bladder, and the sweaty Van Hausen shirt now sticking to his back.

The hand lopped forward again.

11:40. Five minutes.

The students were mostly packed and ready to go now. Usually Mr. Middleton let them pack up for the last five minutes anyway. It’s almost impossible to keep an entire class on topic for the entire period, so he would give the students this time if, and only if, they had worked the whole period.

They were fairly off task today but he didn’t care, he was too focussed on the forced Keegals he was doing from his chair. His focus shifted around the class again.

11:41.

The anticipation within him was growing, he didn’t know if it was the second cup of coffee he had today, the fact he was drinking lemon water in the mornings now, but something was forcing every ounce of liquid from his body into his groin.

11:42.

He started fidgeting about even more now. He hadn’t realized it but his face was beginning to squint in a way that reminded the students of the hawk-eyed man in the Poe story they had just read.

Mr. Middleton was using practically every muscle in his body to focus his energy on squeezing his groin in. He could no longer shift. He would now sit with all muscles clenched, just waiting for that transcendent moment of his bladder’s relief.

11:43.

With his body locked, soon so was his gaze. It had fallen upon the sign just above the door, the sign that was in every classroom. “Maximum Occupancy 56 People.” Fifty-six people were supposed to fit in this classroom that was already full with 31 kids plus the desks.

For some reason it was those words on the sign, “Maximum Occupancy” that ran in circles in his mind for what seemed like minutes. Soon they made him think of the words, “Full Capacity.” Full capacity, that was where his bladder was. Occupied to its maximum, its fullest and most strained point. “Maximum occupancy, Full capacity.” The four words circling in his mind until it was reduced to just two.

“Full capacity.”
“Full capacity.”
“Full capacity.”

It was as if he was having a lapse of his sanity, like these two words were the only thing existing in his mind anymore besides the fountain waiting to burst in between his legs. It was as if he thought this would be the magic mantra to make the need to go, go away.

They didn’t.

“Full capacity.”
“Full capacity.”
“Full capacity.”
“Full Jesus H Christ Mother Fucking Cock Sucking Capacity!”
“Full capa..”

Mr. Middleton suddenly snapped out of his momentary insanity when it was interrupted by the loud blaring and echo that was the school bell, and the halls that were filling with footsteps and students yelling over other students so the can hear each other talk.

He opened his once twitching eyes to see his students filing out of the room, the polite ones waving and saying goodbye to him.

He did not close the class with his usual deep bellow of, “Have a nice day!” He just nodded with a polite smile to anyone he made eye contact with.

As the last student left Mr. Middleton was out of his seat before the student could even close the door behind her. He pushed gently past the student in a rare moment of rudeness that briefly confused and offended the student. But Mr. Middleton was on too important of a mission to notice or care about anything except delivering the package that nature was calling on him for.

After leaping and pacing down the hall, moving around students like a running back making it across the field to the end zone, he burst through the staff room door pushing aside a coworker with the same rudeness he had the student. He did one last running back twirl and dodge around the formica staff room table, and he leapt into the staff men’s room, unintentionally slamming the door behind him.

Relief is too light of a word to express what Mr. Middleton felt at this very moment, this was a moment of justice to him. A moment to stand with pride, not to just sigh and move on. The instant the door was locked, the zipper had fallen down and after that what could only be described as torture was finished.

Mr. Middleton was delivered with the greatest sense of relief by the gods, a sense of relief and release that was more than necessary, that was just, and long overdue.

The Story’s Answer. Part 2

There is no day,
There is no hour,
There is no time
which cannot be used
for the sake that
our sweet and public did.
To do right is to act,
To justify is inexcusable.
Truth is the only merit to truth
As it should be,

I have kept silence
in my place that
was no silence at all,
yet it bore no
production.
No sense is wasting
timeless effort.

Bah! Curse this
disposition!
All this trivial
nonsense of
waste and time.

Time IS Waste
and so is anger.
Yes, there is a time
for anger,
there is a time for
justice,
Yet who am I,
but one soul
and one mind
to determine semantics
of such a word.

What mortal is?
What mortal dares?
Is time, is space,
is life itself not
the determinate of a concept so alien
as quote-unquote
justice.

So now we must ask
the question, the
discomforting untrue
question,
what is justice?
and is justice relative.

A call to arms this is
to some,
A blind rally of people
shouting “NO!” time
and time again.

Yet why not?
Is truth not relative?
Is time not relative?
Is evil not relative?
If so why or how
can any system be
true to the word
and concept of
justice?

If not then tell
me,
What is justice?
What is just?
Is it Just that a
stack of paper
determines the worth
of a human life?
Is it Just that a girl
is judged and damned
if she Do or Don’t?
Bare the child,
You’re a whore.
Give up the child,
you’re a murderer.
You dare call this Just?
Billions to distract
torture and incest
and you dare call
this sport.

I abide to love,
peace and truth and
you dare call me
“blasphemous.”
And there behold,
another bind.

Truth, ha, even the word
is laughable and
the question real,
What is Truth?

Is Truth real or another
semantic error?
Ah, and loyalty,
another semantic
matter,
and to dare share
the semantic,
the blind know
nothing semantic.

Trivial, waste in time,
blind and yet blind
again.
To make no effort,
to only bring forth
a craft of humanity
and thought,
indulgent no?

NO!
I say not, I
say what is not
a product of self,
what is not a product
of the decision to act?
Yet what decision is not
made by knowledge of
the option.
Who is to give that knowledge
and who is in a place
of such ego that
they can say
it is a thing to give.

Bare fortune,
No, and true
Sad heart break
it cannot be true
again,
but it is,
It is,
It is true again,
Oh curse the vile
nave and naive
you patriots and do-gooders
lay.
Curse you and your
improper dispositions.
Your cruel word,
yet be gone
for to be lost in lust,
to be a drift in the sexual draft
and current
is true.
My supposed perversion,
is my natural gain,
The only perversion,
is fear,
Fear!
Any! Fear!
Your Fear!
It is Fear that perverts.
It is Fear that obscures.
Yet in a way Fear
can lead to security.
Well secure no more,
for security is the chain,
The chain’s,
our chains,
we are the workers
of the world,
we must unite,
we must show
pride
we must show
lust
we must show our
power
and we must show
our modesty.
Blurred is my rapid
thought
but strong is every
effort,
every bank on word
is both play and
employment.

but it is also
protest,
a viable way to live
and love
and fight,
we must draw upon
our unity to fight.
Strong words,
from not a strong man,
because no man is present,
no woman either,
only people,
yes only people are here,
Any other label is upon
you and your nature
and peaceful self.

Work and slave
drone on and on,
to what end?
To justify your insecurities,
to pain yourself with your own
cyclone of a lost
anachronism’s
label!

What label does one need
beyond knowledge?
Both of body and mind,
Be kind thoughts,
Why does balance
become an alien concept?
To hell with the coin flip,
throw away your coin
for it was used to buy
your chains.
I have no shame for
my craft.
For it is my work.

Do you question your blacksmiths?
Do you have fault
with your carpenters?
Yet you attack the work of poets and philosophers?
Because their work is
work of thought.
I am a citizen of
this world,
and of no other place.
I will not have my
acts obscured,
what is our self indulgence?
For are we not robbed?
How do we not fight?

All do yet they
have their fights by
symbols,
by a general lack of security.

To excuse these acts,
to hide behind the
proud progressive,
then use and obscure
the name.
The art of war is not the war to be flaunted.
but it is the only thing
to be chained.
Yet even good chains
break so often,
yet better than no chain
at all,
but chain no person
but the wicked,
and even when the
wicked are chained
only chain them.
No whips,
no death,
only chains,
For one chain alone
is a lost ironic,
lacking humanity.

SEEKING ADVICE FROM INDUSTRY INSIDERS (film & fiction)

At the moment while I am running this site I am pursuing the optioning or sale of my screenplays & pitches. I have a few contacts in the industry but they are at a standstill. Any advice from any actors, writers, producers, or executives reading this will not only be appreciated but will be returned with my friendship and
a favor owed. Anyone who knows me knows I have never forgotten a favor.

Again, I only ask for advice, I expect nothing from anyone because no one owes me anything. That being said, I know you all need allies and I am the best ally to have. All I ask is for networking pointers and maybe notes on my work.

Contact me with anything. Thanks again for your time everyone.

Gramercy, The Journey of Jack Lewis. Chapter 13.

Chapter 13 Fun Playing God

Needless to say our star crossed lovers spent that night in each others arms.  In fact they had spent every night for the last three weeks in each others arms.  Never had either one been so happy, so warm, so full of joy. Kate was used to men being douche-bags, but she felt Jack was soft and sweet, but so masculine at the Same time. Plus she wanted to take care of him. She felt she understood him, and the world didn’t. The world just locked him up.  But she wouldn’t shun him, she wouldn’t hurt him.  And Jack knew this, and for the first time in his life he felt comforted and at peace.  What Jack couldn’t believe was how much light and change had come into his life, in a single night.

They awoke each day at her apartment.  A studio a few blocks away from Hal and Conners home.    This morning, he heard her sing in the shower, she was singing “God’s gonna cut you down” by Johnny Cash and Jack was simply intoxicated by the beauty of her voice.  

While lost in her song, he danced about her apartment and by her impressive bookshelf.  Upon which he decided to grab a book and lose himself in both her voice and her books.  He walked the shelves until he found the one that struck his interest the most

He picked the one with the most worn out spine.  A collection of short stories by some author who had 17 manuscripts lying around from his teen years after he died.  “Clearly she reads this one a lot,” thought Jack, “I should get a sense for her taste in books if this is going to work out.”

He cracked open the book the first story and began, losing himself in Kate’s songs.

Fun Playing God

by *******************

*Authors Name Omitted for Liability

I am God.  I Control the heavens and the Earth.  I crafted and molded the peak of Everest and I spread the water across the seas.  Life is a canvas and all that is and all that you see is my masterpiece, the beauty of the stars and galaxies are my Mona Lisa, and the majesty of my creatures are my David.  Out of the billion and billions of my creations among my stars, Earth was my masterpiece, my requiem.  

Yet, when I created this Earth I found something was missing.  There was nobody to appreciate it but me.  I thought I was being selfish, so I created other beings, humans, to share these gifts.  I gave you the planet out of selflessness hoping that you would in turn bless another soul by returning the kindness of the Earth .  I also hoped that all would give to the Earth as it gave to them.  

But I was wrong.  You humans have raped my beautiful creation.  The earth has become a filthy scum ridden infestation.  Greed is as constant as oxygen.  My perfect blend of sea and land, unlike all the other planets, my perfect piece of art, my child, my greatest creation, full of evil. pain, and greed, all thanks to you.   Don’t worry, like most artists will tell you, when there is something wrong with a picture, you fix it.  Robert Louis Stevenson created three drafts until he perfected DR. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, I just need to do the same to earth.  

Actually, you humans are doing that for me.  Climate Change , Depressions, Wars, disease, all because of your lack of responsibility.   You guys sort of took all the work out for me.

THE ANSWERS

What are the Answers?

Where are the answers?

Are they hidden?

Is there a definite answer?

Answer to what?

What is the question?

Do you know?

Does anyone know?

Who is anyone to say that they know?

I thought no one knows?

Maybe some do, and most of us don’t, so that’s why they are so hard to find?

But then how did those people find the answers?

I hear these so often, truth be told the answer is there is no answer.

YOU ARE NOT THE SUBJECTS OF A GRAND LEADER.  WE ARE EQUALS IN THIS WORLD. WE NEED THE BEGGAR AS WE MUCH AS WE NEED THE WORKER, FOR THERETO BE UP THEREMUST BE DOWN.  IF DOWN WAS ALWAYS DOWN, AND UP DIDN’T EXIST, DOWN WOULDN’T EXIST, BECAUSE DOWN WOULD ALWAYS BE DOWN, IT WOULD BE CONSTANT.  REMEMBER THIS, ALSO REMEMBER TO  SEE THROUGH THE PROPAGANDA EJACULATED TO YOU BY YOUR COMFORTERS.  LIVE BEYOND THE ILLUSION OF COMFORT, ONE FREE OF COMFORT AND DISCOMFORT IS TRULY AT PEACE.  THEY SEE THE WORLD AS IT IS.  

And so it was, the word of the lord.

Peace.

Love.

Happiness.

This was all there was supposed to be to life, but thanks to you cowardly fucks overcomplicating everything by creating your mirage.  You have destroyed what was Eden,and you bastards raped it to shreds.

When I look back I wonder what happened, I wonder how It came out of my grasp.

Let’s tell a few stories, maybe you can get my point.

With every believer there is a prayer, and all those prayers have to come to me, do you understand what it is like to have millions of voices in your heads at once?

Every prayer someone is almost always asking for something, rarely is it ever just one of thanks.  Some things I can help with and something’s I can’t.  I can’t make your dreams come true, I cannot grant wishes, I am merely a teacher, you are the own who must evaluate my lessons.

THERE IS NO DIVISION, THERE IS NO SEPARATION.  EVERYTHING IS CONNECTED, WE ARE ALL ONE, GIANT INFINITE BEINGs ALWAYS EXPANDING AND EVOLVING.    

WE ARE ALL ONE THING, THIS DIVISION IS SIMPLY A MIRAGE.  A MIRAGE THAT IF YOU FAIL TO SEE THROUGH, YOU WILL SUFFER, AND YOU WILL FAIL TO SEE THE SEPARATION OF SUFFERING AND JOY.  YOU WILL BECOME ADDICTED TO THE RUSH OF THE DEEDS BUT THE COMEDOWN OF SUFFERING IS FOREVER THE PRICE OF THIS HIGH.  ABANDON THE MIRAGE.  MIND IS THE FORERUNNER OF ALL ACTIONS.

And so it was, the word of the Lord.

Even an evildoer feels happy

Before his negative actions reach fruition.

However when the evil ripens

He will have a bountiful harvest of evil results.

The Dhammapada

I found how blind you humans are somewhat hilarious to be honest.  I look around at my children and I see them taking medicines which hurt and destroy them with chemicals and synthetics.  I gave you humans a bounty of medicine in nature.    I gave it to you free for the taking.  But because you people are blind deaf and dumb, you created more disease, more filth.  Having a beautiful clean world shouldn’t be a chore, it should be your joy.  I only have one earth, I thought that meant you’d appreciate it.

Perceive the world as a bubble.

Perceive the world as a mirage.

If you see the world in this way,

You render the Lord of Death powerless.

The Dhamapada

I willed for many a tragedy to happen.  I also will for every miracle, it entertains me to reward humans for their successes, and it satisfies me to punish you when you deserve it.  Your failures of classism, racism, and all the rest of your fuck ups, have been restituted with the deaths of numerous benevolent leaders, musicians politicians, actors, you name it.  The scandals of those who preach my name, it is there restitution for abusing my name.  They use my name to hate other innocents, so I make them sex and coke addicts and give them incurable cancer.  Oh the fun I have killing the unworthy, but I cry when I kill the innocents to punish you, it seems sometimes that’s the only way I can teach you a lesson is to take away the good.  

 But hey, shit happens.

Free will.

It comes with responsibility.

For there to be moderation there must be overconsumption.

For there to be up there must be down.

Life cannot exist without the positive and the negative.

For there would be no balance

LOOK AROUND THE ANSWERS ARE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.  A FINGER IS POINTING AT THE MOON, DON’T FOCUS ON THE FINGER OR YOU WILL MISS THE BOUNTY AND BEAUTY OF THE MOON.

And so it was, the word of the Lord.

A question I hear from you a lot is, “How was this planet created?”  Well as I said I am God I control the heavens and the earth.  I pull the strings with my own two hands without you ever seeing it.  The laws of gravity are constant thanks to my planning.  As for how the Earth was created essentially I clumped a big ball of nothing together into a dense mass, until the mass was so dense it imploded upon exploding into the world.  You humans evolved from the puddle of ooze that was the Earth into carbon based living beings.  Marvels of the majesty that is art and science can be seen throughout nature and even the naked body.  Yet you let ancient metaphors block your judgment keeping you blind to the beauty of the body and the joy of sex.  

Don’t you think there is a reason I made sex feel so good?Because I wanted you to enjoy yourselves.  Death is inevitable. So I gave you simple pleasures, like sex and natural intoxicants, such as wine.  Yes, I gave you wine. Wine comes from nature, look it up.  

Why do you humans think you need to suffer your whole life to be rewarded in death?  Don’t you see I gave you Earthly pleasures to enjoy your short time there?  Think about it, “Heaven on Earth!?”  What the hell do you think awaits you in the afterlife?   So long as you don’t hurt anything or anyone you should feel free to do as you please.  Enjoy your entire time on earth, don’t suffer in the long run in order to be happy in short run.  Life is not a wave you have to work and paddle to ride and enjoy, life is the ride of the wave itself.  So drink up and grab your lover.  Those of you how enjoy others suffering are doomed to suffer.

I have all the answers, and I am always willing to give them.  I recall a meeting with one of my children, just weeks ago.

She approached me but she dared not to get to close, she was a young woman, and you have no idea what joy it gives me that some people care enough.

“Are you God?” she asked.

“Yes my child,” I replied and she wrote something on her notepad, I could tell she wanted to hear what I had to say, she wanted to write it down and remember it all.  She continued to ask me questions.

“Do you know everything?” She asked, I could tell she was just a little skeptical, they all are when they first meet me.

“Yes,” I said.  She decided now to seize the opportunity and put to rest her quest for answers.

“What is the meaning of life?”  She asked first.

“Peace, Love, and Happiness, I suppose.  Come back to that question in little bit so I can think it ove because there are a lot of right answers to that problem.”

She wrote it down without hesitation.  “Why did you create suffering?”

“So you may know what joy is.”  She wrote this down.

“Do you control everything?” She asked, I not buried her skepticism.

“Essentially, I do, but I do it without you ever seeing it.  I keep you on Earth with gravity, it holds you on the planet, and I don’t have to do a damn thing after I invented gravity.  You invented the label for it though.  Remember all labels are subjective.ook at the different labels that are my children’s languages.”

She nodded and continued to write.  “Did you settle on an answer for the first question?”

“I’m afraid there is no answer to that question my child.”

She nodded, “I understand,” she gave me an offering as a thanks, and left.

THE MEANING TO LIFE IS THERE IS NO MEANING TO LIFE.

And so it was, the word of the Lord.

HUMANS INVENTED RAPE, HUMANS INVENTED MURDER, YOU ARE THE GUILTY INNOCENTS.  YOU ARE ALL SAINTS AND YET SINNERS.  YOU ALWAYS ATTEMPT PERFECTION.  YOU FAIL TO SEE THAT WHAT MAKES YOU IMPERFECT IS WHAT MAKES YOU THE SAME.  YOU ARE ALL VICTIMS AND VICTIMIZERS BOTH.

And so it was, the word of the Lord.

People under the idiotic notion that the only way to be happy is to be free of stain.  You forget no one is free from stain.  No one is free of criticism.o one is free of pain.No one is free from attack.You humans look for ways to be free of these things, but you cannot be.

Why do you humans waste your time asking me all these questions when you already know the answers?  You ask me what is the meaning of life is, and you know what it is, but you can’t accept the fact.  You are always preparing for the future.   There is no future.

MY NAME IS NOT A TOOL TO BE USED FOR ANY MATTER.  YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR MAKING THE WORLD “HEAVEN ON EARTH”. THE WAY IS NOT BY YELLING MY NAME AT PEOPLE BUT YELLING MY MESSAGE.

AND I MEAN MY MESSAGE NOT YOURS.  LOVE THY NEIGHBOR, GIVE YOUR COAT TO THE MAN WITHOUT ONE.  YOU ARE INDIVIDUALS, BUT YOU LIVE IN A COMMUNITY, WE PERCEIVE THE WORLD SEPARATELY YET TOGETHER.  WE CAN MAKE THIS WORLD THE PLACE IT WAS BEFORE YOU HUMANS INVENTED WAR.  YOUR ANIMAL INSTINCTS WERE SUPPOSED TO BE USED IN SELF DEFENSE.  NOT MURDER.  

ALL WAR IS JUST AN EXCUSE FOR PILLAGE, RAPE, AND MURDER WITHOUT SUFFERING ANY CONSEQUENCES, SO I CREATED CONSEQUENCES.  

And so it was, the word of the Lord.

When I say I’ve killed innocents, I’m talking about Martin Luther King or Gandhi. They died to show you the suffering which you have inflicted on others.  I also felt that they could serve a higher purpose in death than in life.  Because in death their lessons can be appreciated, in life they remain the subject of debate.  In death they are subjects of history.  They are the symbols in death they couldn’t be in life.  I truly cried when I had to kill Lincoln, King, the Kennedy’s, and I laughed my ass off when I popped Hitler, Stalin, and Jerry Falwell.  I  cried when I had to open the gates of heaven to Hitler’s 11 million.  

THIS IS HEAVEN YET THIS IS HELL. THIS IS REAL YET THIS IS FALSE.  THIS EXISTS YET IT DOES NOT.  I’M REAL, YET I’M NOT, I’M EVERYWHERE YET NO WHERE.  INFINITE YET CONFINED.

And so it was, the word of the Lord.

She visited again.

“Do you still control, the heavens and the Earth?”  She asked.  I understand her skepticism.he debauchery and sin of the world has reached shocking levels under my radar.  But fear not, the kingdom of heaven is at hand.

“I understand your skepticism, it would seem I have lost control, fear not my child, it is all part of the divine plan.  But it gives me hope for my people when I see them so concerned about my kingdom.”

She looked back at me, “I was more concerned about you.”  Then she smiled, this one is truly a gift to this Earth.  She then gave me two blue offerings and scoop from the well, and she was off again. I always want to follow her, but I can’t.   I want to run and tell her how much this world needs people like her, so considerate of the welfare of so many beings, even the Lord.  But this locked door, these padded walls, keep me from getting to her.

Why do so many question if ‘I’m god?  They say “No, you are Isaac J. Constantine,” why can’t I be both?

You humans keep your own creator in containment because you have wandered so far away from me, you don’t even recognize me.  You don’t even recognize your father.  You have become so unfaithful. You’ve taken my words for heresy and follow the priests and preachers like the Hitler youth.  It’s okay, abuse me all you want, one who can take abuse without delivering retribution is truly in control of themselves.  I can only lead by example and hope those follow.    But remember, God is everywhere. I am everywhere. I am everything. Just as I am the plants in the ground and the clouds in the air. Look in the mirror, and you will see I’m also you.

So, you can keep my hands tethered to my sides in this jacket,. You can keep my body in this padded cell.  You can throw the word “insane” around all you want.  You can fuck with your free will all you want. Just remember, I have the final say in reality.For I am God, and I control reality.  I am reality.  So…

SO NOW  GOODBYE.  IT’S TIME I KEEP THE PROMISES MADE IN REVELATIONS.  I HAVE MUCH WORK TO DO!

GOODBYE, GOODBYE,  GOODBYE.

Jack found the work weird and confusing, he heard Kate get out of the shower and he could hear her singing even louder now that the water was off.

Lost in her song once again, he turned to another story and kept reading.