I grew up a good catholic boy in Burbank California. It seemed odd to go to confession in a town that was dedicated to telling tall tails. And usually that's about all I had to confess. But still more often than not I found myself sitting in the pew staring at a very stern looking St. Joseph. And than it would start. I could hear her wailing and crying behind the confessional door. I wondered what she could have done this week that caused her such anguish. And this would last for at least three decades of hell marys and glory bees. She would come out of there worn and exhausted looking and kneel down in prayer. It has taken me forty years to figure out that my future was the cause of all her sorrow.
Every thing that has ever happened, or is ever going to happen, is happening right now.
I watched porn and than fell asleep feeling guilty and asking god for forgivness. When I work up we were watching a show on cable about a cambodian man who lost his penis while he was retrieving his fishing net, it was bitten off by a fish.
I said to him? How can I be son? How Can I be the holy one?? Havent you seen what I ve done? How can I be the only one ? Isnt that asking to much? Im sure they think im the devil now, its like they read my mind. it tortures all of my time. How can be the son? how can be the holy one? Isnt it to late for me? ,
and he just smiled at me. " They said that about me too ... and than he sang
Your Kingdom waits for you
you know whats got to be done
times a wasting my son come on come come come on and follow there follow into Fathers paradise open your eyes if you want to see,, open open open to everything
your kingdom for you. Your kingdom waits for you