But seldom we belong on hands and knees for another human being, saturating ourselves with their sweat and lies. But still we give our spendings to each hand that is outstretched for quarters, thinking, 'its only a little bit,' till we're holding nothing but a white flag on the sidewalk of your local bank.
----
Holding heads up high is impossible when you can't stand. So forgo all conclusions and stretch out, remembering, better to have a straight spine that a bruised noggin.
-----
Lately my life has taken a turn into a mud pit. Every person I talk to seems to continue this feeling, as if only a few individuals are on my side. The conversations turn into propaganda for a disability I never signed up for.
----
Fuck, even writing is a chore.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Friday, June 06, 2008
some folks saw it in the distance.but you didn't.
she said you should blog more. so of course you're going to wait a few weeks until you do. who in the hell wants some broad to give directions?.seriously.
anyways.i have this blog and someone said i should. so i am.insert your laugh here.
Life has been quite an experience thus far. Updates are of course in order for you dear friend, as I'm sure none have kept you up the speed. It's a daunting task to bring up our lives though, what with personal crisis, sexual romps, and random spankings it's a wonder men even walk out there front doors.
sexual romps, adam?
well it made you re-read my blog, right?
I honestly have no idea where to begin. Section it out by subject matter or feather words about with you being the one responsible for sorting through the mess.
i'll take dave letterman's advice
top ten things significant in adam brewers life are...
10. my strength as a man builds with each obstacle
9. humility is hard to come by
8. saying 'fuckin'' between sentances sounds cool
7. women are the root/stem/branch/head of most evil. even when not, they're close by winking at you.
6. metal releases the soul in ways religion has tried for years and years.
5. you're not worth it
4. you are, though
3. truth will burn through metal doors
2. colorado is glorious and disgusting
1. it feels ludacris to pursue this dream at time
.fin.
anyways.i have this blog and someone said i should. so i am.insert your laugh here.
Life has been quite an experience thus far. Updates are of course in order for you dear friend, as I'm sure none have kept you up the speed. It's a daunting task to bring up our lives though, what with personal crisis, sexual romps, and random spankings it's a wonder men even walk out there front doors.
sexual romps, adam?
well it made you re-read my blog, right?
I honestly have no idea where to begin. Section it out by subject matter or feather words about with you being the one responsible for sorting through the mess.
i'll take dave letterman's advice
top ten things significant in adam brewers life are...
10. my strength as a man builds with each obstacle
9. humility is hard to come by
8. saying 'fuckin'' between sentances sounds cool
7. women are the root/stem/branch/head of most evil. even when not, they're close by winking at you.
6. metal releases the soul in ways religion has tried for years and years.
5. you're not worth it
4. you are, though
3. truth will burn through metal doors
2. colorado is glorious and disgusting
1. it feels ludacris to pursue this dream at time
.fin.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
dictionary
Abbreviated life - n - A compartmentalized form of going about one’s day, speech, and thought-life; shortened and simplistic living;
Friday, January 19, 2007
Arrows, Sparrows, Sin, Sainthood, And Being Introspective
So last night in a fit of boredom I drove northbound to the Killen, TX local Starbucks. Sadly this promise land of coffee and comfy chairs was closed due to Sister Winter pissing all over the landscape.
:-(
This led me to the insufferable position of finding a new place, not ideal for a introverted P with the planning styles of a J (in some ways.) Not exactly spontaneous, I remembered wanting a book from Hastings, an often trust worthy consumer-friendly store. Driving through the icy wasteland of wet roads, slush, and tossed cigarettes there came a store passed by many times before yet noted in the back of my mind on several occasions.
A Christian bookstore.
Now, for those who have not been with me these past two and a half years, I have the bad/wrong/childish tendency to judge things based by their covers. By things I mean, pretty much, only Christian things.
Why?
I dunno. Maybe cause there seems to be a culture where there ought not really be one, at least not the white bread one peppered all over the United States (or at least the 1/303294 of it I've seen.)
Alas, all of this was (*thankfully*) not enough to stop this Adam from entering the store. Though cute I still felt like Ned Flanders had taken over a Barnes and Noble, and decided to add a Hallmark to the left wing. Pastels, white angels, cds, and some other things, appropriately there - I guesss.
Anyways, I found the bible study I was looking for (did I mention I was looking for one? If not, I was.)
Tonight was my first crack at it. The passage dealt with was nothing more than an introductory. In the past two years Paul's letters actually came alive, with no other thanks than to the Spirit's own punching me in the face (my language: he helped me learn.) Seeing the opening words explain more than "Hey guys..." is really a blessing.
Anywho, one of the questions asked in this study dealt with benefits of God's grace in our present lives, the moment-by-moment reality of spirituality. To be honest my eyes have been covered more than others when it comes to this.
But tonight the question seemed rather alive. Or rather, the question-answer combo. Stated, "What present benefits of grace do you most appreciate?"
Short answer, "Being forgiven of recent things and having the strength to look past it towards joy, peace, comfort, and strength; to be 'alive and kicking.'"
Long answer, Sometimes this weight of sin seems too heavy to bear. The reason why is quite simple though, I leave it on my shoulders!! Hoist it up, parade with it, play football with it, sleep with it, make toasted sandwiches with it; It's a wonder my back doesn't hurt.
Of course I don't think it's healthy to "right off the bat" leave sin with no feelings of guilt. That's often ignoring the issue and, from observing and experiencing, will come later to bite your ass right off.
Recently, as in today, I was struck with an awful fact, bringing my sorrow full circle. Sin works in three ways (most of the time.) In no real order...
First, we sin against someone else. Be it through a straight up insult, omission, or harsh feelings toward them (even if unspoken.)
Second, we sin against ourselves. Note we ALWAYS do this if sin is involved.
Thirdly, and more terrifying, we sin against God.
I felt the first two; strongly, passionately, revoltingly, and present through most of the past week. Yet there was little to do with what I had actually done towards my Dad.
It happened while listening to Half-Handed Cloud (love him, now!) play "Even The Sparrow Be Arrowed" from the album We Haven't Just Been Told, We've Been Loved. See these lyrics yo!
All the beasts would be stoned grazing on that mountain for grazes
Even the sparrow'd be arrowed
When she touched those higher places.
We've been registered in heaven,
Word is, Lord has made us one.
For some reason, listening to his odd voice explain the deadliness of worshipping false God's and such made me realize:
I should be dead; I should be stoned; I should be arrowed.
Yet, all coming from the same source (the source of who would arrow me) arrives the other line, that glorious and beautiful other line:
We've been registered in heaven,
Word is, Lord has made us one.
In this Bible study it spoke of the Corinthians as saints. He also calls them depraved and perverted.
How?
Cause our sainthood isn't built off our own saintiness; it's a promise to be set apart, to be conformed by him till that last breath we draw.
Given our failures we can do one thing.
The same thing we did at the beginning: Run to his grace.
And I just wrote too much most folks care to read, esp with my horrible writing style! :-)
God bless*
*I hope God really does bless you!!
:-(
This led me to the insufferable position of finding a new place, not ideal for a introverted P with the planning styles of a J (in some ways.) Not exactly spontaneous, I remembered wanting a book from Hastings, an often trust worthy consumer-friendly store. Driving through the icy wasteland of wet roads, slush, and tossed cigarettes there came a store passed by many times before yet noted in the back of my mind on several occasions.
A Christian bookstore.
Now, for those who have not been with me these past two and a half years, I have the bad/wrong/childish tendency to judge things based by their covers. By things I mean, pretty much, only Christian things.
Why?
I dunno. Maybe cause there seems to be a culture where there ought not really be one, at least not the white bread one peppered all over the United States (or at least the 1/303294 of it I've seen.)
Alas, all of this was (*thankfully*) not enough to stop this Adam from entering the store. Though cute I still felt like Ned Flanders had taken over a Barnes and Noble, and decided to add a Hallmark to the left wing. Pastels, white angels, cds, and some other things, appropriately there - I guesss.
Anyways, I found the bible study I was looking for (did I mention I was looking for one? If not, I was.)
Tonight was my first crack at it. The passage dealt with was nothing more than an introductory. In the past two years Paul's letters actually came alive, with no other thanks than to the Spirit's own punching me in the face (my language: he helped me learn.) Seeing the opening words explain more than "Hey guys..." is really a blessing.
Anywho, one of the questions asked in this study dealt with benefits of God's grace in our present lives, the moment-by-moment reality of spirituality. To be honest my eyes have been covered more than others when it comes to this.
But tonight the question seemed rather alive. Or rather, the question-answer combo. Stated, "What present benefits of grace do you most appreciate?"
Short answer, "Being forgiven of recent things and having the strength to look past it towards joy, peace, comfort, and strength; to be 'alive and kicking.'"
Long answer, Sometimes this weight of sin seems too heavy to bear. The reason why is quite simple though, I leave it on my shoulders!! Hoist it up, parade with it, play football with it, sleep with it, make toasted sandwiches with it; It's a wonder my back doesn't hurt.
Of course I don't think it's healthy to "right off the bat" leave sin with no feelings of guilt. That's often ignoring the issue and, from observing and experiencing, will come later to bite your ass right off.
Recently, as in today, I was struck with an awful fact, bringing my sorrow full circle. Sin works in three ways (most of the time.) In no real order...
First, we sin against someone else. Be it through a straight up insult, omission, or harsh feelings toward them (even if unspoken.)
Second, we sin against ourselves. Note we ALWAYS do this if sin is involved.
Thirdly, and more terrifying, we sin against God.
I felt the first two; strongly, passionately, revoltingly, and present through most of the past week. Yet there was little to do with what I had actually done towards my Dad.
It happened while listening to Half-Handed Cloud (love him, now!) play "Even The Sparrow Be Arrowed" from the album We Haven't Just Been Told, We've Been Loved. See these lyrics yo!
All the beasts would be stoned grazing on that mountain for grazes
Even the sparrow'd be arrowed
When she touched those higher places.
We've been registered in heaven,
Word is, Lord has made us one.
For some reason, listening to his odd voice explain the deadliness of worshipping false God's and such made me realize:
I should be dead; I should be stoned; I should be arrowed.
Yet, all coming from the same source (the source of who would arrow me) arrives the other line, that glorious and beautiful other line:
We've been registered in heaven,
Word is, Lord has made us one.
In this Bible study it spoke of the Corinthians as saints. He also calls them depraved and perverted.
How?
Cause our sainthood isn't built off our own saintiness; it's a promise to be set apart, to be conformed by him till that last breath we draw.
Given our failures we can do one thing.
The same thing we did at the beginning: Run to his grace.
And I just wrote too much most folks care to read, esp with my horrible writing style! :-)
God bless*
*I hope God really does bless you!!
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Lost (A preview or paraphrase of a much larger book or thoughts for 2007)
It is a wonder when a traveler loses his way. A glance to the left, a drink of coffee, bad directions, or simple ignorance; All these things can lead to his being lost.
In this world, the loss of focus on eternal things (ie the kingdom of God) is often muddled in squabblings of religion, fight for 'liberty', politics, or some vague sense of duty. Given what I've often said to my friends it is obvious I see the logic and value of speaking with men and women of other religions, I often practice quite liberal Christian life, and attempt some sort of dutiful living. So I'm not coming from some high and lofty position or being an arrogant prick.
I also know that apathy (read: rebellion) has been attributed by the second mentioned point of muddleness: "liberty." Still reacting violently against my former life of "Lists! lists! lists!" I often will do something with a sense of pride because I can quote the subverse, "All things are lawful for me," forgeting there is a comma, not a period.
So lately I've been in the position of wrestling with my own life. Not to discourage the reader let me note my life has not been some sort of Israel-esque fall. Rather there are just many things our Dad has been teaching me - namely that each waking hour is an offering to him. It is too easy for each day to slowly (or quickly) pass a person by with no meaning, no thought - a dismal stretch mark against the backdrop of eternity.
I often scoff at much of traditionalism - but not what the tradition is founded on (assuming it's something good, right?) When a stuffy man stands up and says, "Lord Jesus, we entreat thee to come into our lives and transform it by the pow'r of your word" there is no disagreement because I'd rather say it, "Jesus, brother, reach into this mess of ours and shake us out of this daydream we are in..." But...so often, I become a self-righteous prick, struggling to forgive, look pass, and love as I am called.
I was once asked what I fear. The answer came quickly and with little thinking: To become worthless.
Wortheless to brothers, sisters, family, those around me, to society (thought I don't do much now), and as a human.
Now something often on my mind (though not solitarily) is this relationship I'm in. Quite astonishing if I'm asked, there is much new of it as compared to those gals in the past I've known. It would take a blog post and a half to tell of us....but there is much of God's planning (I believe) all around it.
------
Thanks for entertaining my thoughts. Forgive any mispellings. Late night plus two beers make me tired.
Love you.
In this world, the loss of focus on eternal things (ie the kingdom of God) is often muddled in squabblings of religion, fight for 'liberty', politics, or some vague sense of duty. Given what I've often said to my friends it is obvious I see the logic and value of speaking with men and women of other religions, I often practice quite liberal Christian life, and attempt some sort of dutiful living. So I'm not coming from some high and lofty position or being an arrogant prick.
I also know that apathy (read: rebellion) has been attributed by the second mentioned point of muddleness: "liberty." Still reacting violently against my former life of "Lists! lists! lists!" I often will do something with a sense of pride because I can quote the subverse, "All things are lawful for me," forgeting there is a comma, not a period.
So lately I've been in the position of wrestling with my own life. Not to discourage the reader let me note my life has not been some sort of Israel-esque fall. Rather there are just many things our Dad has been teaching me - namely that each waking hour is an offering to him. It is too easy for each day to slowly (or quickly) pass a person by with no meaning, no thought - a dismal stretch mark against the backdrop of eternity.
I often scoff at much of traditionalism - but not what the tradition is founded on (assuming it's something good, right?) When a stuffy man stands up and says, "Lord Jesus, we entreat thee to come into our lives and transform it by the pow'r of your word" there is no disagreement because I'd rather say it, "Jesus, brother, reach into this mess of ours and shake us out of this daydream we are in..." But...so often, I become a self-righteous prick, struggling to forgive, look pass, and love as I am called.
I was once asked what I fear. The answer came quickly and with little thinking: To become worthless.
Wortheless to brothers, sisters, family, those around me, to society (thought I don't do much now), and as a human.
Now something often on my mind (though not solitarily) is this relationship I'm in. Quite astonishing if I'm asked, there is much new of it as compared to those gals in the past I've known. It would take a blog post and a half to tell of us....but there is much of God's planning (I believe) all around it.
------
Thanks for entertaining my thoughts. Forgive any mispellings. Late night plus two beers make me tired.
Love you.
Friday, October 06, 2006
Madness Spurned In Tranquility So Often Stems From Rotted Roots
Darkness of the tent exasperate my soul.
Midnight atoms tranquilize the wino.
The prism in the dark surface
disperses the beam into reality,
setting forth each fruitless deed
as the passionless/ate asylum.
A noiseless siren, deafening,
whispers madness, my ears receptively
translating
the dictum into
solid-absolute-postmodern-relative
truth so that these eyes bleed
solid trickling linoleum and fluorescent lights;
prepackaged phrases, supple.
acquiescent on my skin;
burning a hole through this hand.
Midnight atoms tranquilize the wino.
The prism in the dark surface
disperses the beam into reality,
setting forth each fruitless deed
as the passionless/ate asylum.
A noiseless siren, deafening,
whispers madness, my ears receptively
translating
the dictum into
solid-absolute-postmodern-relative
truth so that these eyes bleed
solid trickling linoleum and fluorescent lights;
prepackaged phrases, supple.
acquiescent on my skin;
burning a hole through this hand.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
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