I sat down today for the first time in a long while to try and crack a spark in my relationship with the Lord.
I've been mad at him you see, can't help but feel like we don't have a give and take relationship. I can't help but feel like he does all the taking. Humiliates and degrades me with his gigantic finger pointing in my face mocking my life and my decisions, decisions he asked me to make. Love he asked me to give and sacrifices he asked me to make. My life was after all lived just for him.
I've been angry at him and figured he must be so with me as we haven't spoken since my world last fell apart.
Again and again, another regurgitated relationship I had baked with such love and care. Another mission the Lord and I built from floor up lost and it's ashes thrust into the wind. Another moment of meaninglessness.
But all I wanted was freedom from the start, a love that gave me freedom, a field that gave me freedom. At the end of the day none of these things changed me, I realise I am a powerful creation. I've been crafted in powerful hands and no, they aren't pointing laughing. My core is the same and freedom is still my hearts cry.
I'm here with my mom and she is ranting on about a new idea for "the butterfly" concept. She plans on using balloons to reanimate the switch from an ugly creepy crawler into an explosive display of color and life.
I guess I shouldn't be so surprised by all the very predictable cause for my grief, after all, He never promised I wouldn't hurt, he even gave me a new name to remind me that I would always be crushed and broken... How I hate him...

In the end we all have to stand alone before the throne. There will be no one to hide behind, no religion or movement to blame for our lack of love, no good enough reason for why we gave up.
We are born naked and he will receive us naked. Those are my mother's words. And likeweise no one can make me give up but me.
I realise I am a fuck up and i'll never try to hide behind acomplishment. I have nothing without him, everything good bout me is his.
I can't serve drinks anymore when my life has been infused with turth and principal. I owe it to my mother and to the many brakings I can only hope every one will have a chance to experience.

I'm sorry I'm intense but I wouldn't trade carefree for depth and apparently neither would He,
Even when I traded in my heritage for husks.

I LOVE this picture

great song, great lyrics

not so sure about the naked men....

We found him

My half brother Abrahim.

Bahia Brazil

he speaks a bit of English, but its great cause we both get to work on a foreign language when we chat.
Another reason I must go back.

living the future

    The children's mental ward doesn't allow us to take pictures of the kids but we can take pictures of our general activities.       Not many things in this world can compare  to Michelle's face.... Lord knows what she'll do with that spatula.     We bring a little life,  a bit of music and a lot of love to these kids, just like we've always done.      Special thanks to Michelle for coming to see me. I love you woman!! So great to see you again! And to "I Hop" for donating all the pancakes for the kids and Mike Dart "Activity Director"

Marty is fine and so is Eliot , bit banged up but I think he'll live to make more music. Hooray

Cut my hair.

I went to visit our children's hospital last tuesday, brought my balloons and  guitar. My very favorite place to play is in places like this, white walls and sedatives., my audience is forced to listen ha ha, and anyway music sounds louder in places where every thing else is kept inside, all their hurt, the things they can't say out loud.
I was thinking about my own childhood and what the Lord did for me, guess thats why I keep finding myself back in these white, washed rooms filled with young trouble makers and misfits and I love each and every one of them.
I'm such a loser haha.
Here is a song from Eliot's last band
 Prototype 
its not the real thing baby!

pro

if love is a game then it'd be a shame if i couldn't play with you

so lets put on our sneakers an head for the bleacher to watch how the players do.