I’d take a pic of my baby boy, but phone’s in the other room and I ain’t walking that far. Not like I live in a mansion and our room is in the west wing, but I’m fucking lazy like that. I walk close to 30k steps every fucking day. I love it. I gotta move. But — BUT — when I’m tired, I just want to sit in the quiet with my ice cream and my double down, and refuckinglax.
I have a dead lady on my laptop. I Haven’t moved it becaust lady bugs are lucky to me, and if I throw his out side, perhaps my luck will get chucked too. So, he stays. Along with the wall hanging my sister made me 30 years ago that used to say God Bless Our Home. It now says Our Bless Home. It stays. DON’t fucking touch it. God already fell off and we couldn’t find it. That’s when I should have just known shit was never gonna be easy.
SPeaking of God. I am speaking to God again. For those that care. Like i said, I am getting rid of the baggage I have carried around for so long. That means forgiving God as well because deep down I know , or at least I believe, that God does not steer our vessels. Sometimes I feel he intervenes if the results won’t have an impact on more important things later. Things that need to happen for some reason or another. But I also believe that miracles are real. Perhaps whatever had to happen wasn’t in the cards, maybe God steps in to make sure it gets done. Like maybe the fact that there should have been AT LEAST 50,000 deaths had the Towers been full. Or had it happened an hour or two later. Any lost life is tragic, but to think about what could have been happened – maybe should have happened – but didn’t for some reason. Maybe God was that reason. I don’t know. I know that there have been instances where I know Someone has had a hand in my life. I also know — no, I am told and am trying to believe that God was even there on the days He could do nothing at all. It’s the hand tied thing that bothers me. Sometimes. I try to bigger picture it. It’s hard when you talk about my son specifically. There is nothing but what I have here and now. I could give two shits about the bigger picture where he’s concerned. But that’s just me. I’m a hateful bitch .
Maybe God isn’t supposed to intervene. Nah, I don’t buy that. Who would God answer to? His mom? He’s God. So maybe it’s not all free will. Maybe there’s some destiny in there. Some path. Some laid out plan that we should adhere to in order to have a full life and to perpetuate the planet in some way. And we just go off willy nilly and do what ever the fuck we want. We’re like the wild ants a dad uses in the ant farm and then watched in horror as they battled and destroyed each other through the glass. God is watching in horror through the glass. Maybe saving what He can.
I should be in bed. Yeah, I should. I’m jawjawing about nothing anyhow.