THE UGLY {(at 1st) & then beautiful, mind-bending} TRUTH

The other day I saw that the movie “The ugly truth” was on. You know, normal people wouldn’t want to watch it when it was in the middle to later part of the movie.. but I’ve never been normal so why start now right?  Well, Gerard Butler (aka Mike Chadway) kept going on & on & on about women wanting a checklist from men & not an actual man. To me, this has proved true in many respects. Women, in my opinion, are often asking for the brave, faithful, loving, honorable, noble, honest, chivalrous, romantic man. Yet, in large this man remains a mystery to them. However, it is not because they have never met this man. It is because when they do meet this man.. maybe even more than once.. they are scared out of their mind.. and in this fear they run, hide, cling to a state of denial, & perceptively reject the very man they sought out to find & hold on to! They begin asking themselves things like: How could this man exist & want me? I can’t deserve or keep this man so I won’t even try. They begin asking if the man they’ve met is, in fact, only a fantasy or a fake like all of the other times before him. They begin a string of hopeless analyzations that ultimately ends with them analyzing why they are still alone. Do you see the circle? Do you see the cycle? Life is not about a checklist. Love is not about a checklist. It is about itself. Love is, ironically selfish. However, it is only selfish in its unselfishness. Love is impatient, but only with impatience.

For me, this inevitably comes in the form of me being up front with women & them not being upfront with their own inability to handle upfrontness. Contradiction? Yes. But.. love doesn’t obey the rules of proper mannerism, etiquette or non-hypocrisy. Anything goes. I should know that. You should know that. Should it go? No. But, you have to be able to handle the utmost of pain in order to truly appreciate the utmost of blessing, joy & comfort.. or else you will invariably take it for granted every time.  People assume games are warranted; they aren’t. Most people just want to know where they stand. They don’t want to waste their time. However, given the option to waste time, let it be for love. But know this, if a man is willing to risk it all for you, you have a responsibility to do the same or else tell him upfront that you are a coward. You have to face it. We all have to. We are all enslaved to something. Some of us are slaves of freedom. Others still are slaves of money; others of resisting money. And still, many of us are slaves of ignorance in refusing to admit our dual natured slavery that often also involves daily cowardice of the heart.

Am I giving advice here? No, that’s not my main goal. I am just venting because my mind is often victim to slavery of love, but where does that leave my body? I confess, I often do not follow up on half of the romantic notions that plague my mind. Maybe that’s a good thing because most people aren’t equipped to handle what might happen then because it would be real. Ironically, it would also be like fantasy in that it would be a real fantasy & this is enough to confuse most rational thinkers … even the ones that fall victim to moments of being a dreamer. The world never has dealt with Shakespearean passion very well.  Nevertheless, I will press on. I will be stubborn, as men often are, and with it I will be patient. This seemingly contradictory pair will yield fruit and it will be sweet. Will it be now or later or later than later… as in long after my body has been laid to the grave & wasted by the worms of the earth? I have no clue. But guess what, that’s all part of the lure of life & love.  I mean, it’s not faith if you’re using your eyes (or at least if you’re using ONLY your eyes).

I am reminded of a thought I had while working out because of all of this plaguing my mind the other night. I was outside til maybe 2 something in the a.m. & I thought about boxing. Boxing is a lot like love:

Both make the palms sweat, & the heart beat fast, & the body yearn in joy & pain & anticipation of the next blow or victory. It is torture & it is insatiable desire. It is anguish & it is immovable joy. It is equal parts coffee & creamer. Separated from us it is bitter & cold.. but enacted it becomes sweet & lively & full of flavor & many would strive to buy it for way too high a portion of their paycheck.

You see, I think about this a lot. I can’t help but think of it. I can’t help but pray about it. I can’t help but long for it. I don’t do what I do for nothing. I didn’t start working out from vanity. I want to be a non-slothful man for her. I want her to know that I am willing to work & work & move & burst my butt & maybe my head & maybe my heart… on a daily basis.. but only for her. I didn’t start singing or playing guitar or piano or drums or guitar or ukulele for nothing.  I didn’t start writing songs for nothing. I don’t want fame from it. I just want to share life with her. And also, an occasional song never hurts. There are way too many tears & fears, we all need more songs & thongs. Okay, so maybe that last part was a joke ;-) 

Yesterday I started a mission in my life. It’s not a mission trip, but in a way it is.  It’s not a drug trip, but in a way it is. How? Well, I am seeking not to waste my life on procrastination & idle words. I am seeking to honor God by my commitment to love. I am also seeking to find him more in my enacted love that measures beyond words. I am also seeking to show him to others in this way. But also, I will find my wife this way. You see, it’s called “operation be all you can be for her.” If it sounds like a military operation gone fruity, it’s not. I’m not a fighter, but I will fight for love. I am a lover, but I will hate, loathe & despise that which is not love. This will teach me & I will grow wise & more mature & more as a child at the same time. In this, I will be able to laugh more & be more serious, but not overly so.

I am determined to live as if I were just diagnosed with a terminal disease. I will not pass a month without doing something that I’ve said I was going to do but only put it off as if I could tomorrow. I have to start showing my songs to the world. I can’t just sit back composing things only to enjoy them myself. I have to start being with friends more & cultivating relationships that I wish were more than just casual or workplace acquaintance. Our own minds are often the most limiting thing on the outcome of our lives. Shall I limit myself? Shall I be my own worst enemy? Or… Shall I let love limit me to be nearly limitless & the angels of heaven to be my own liberator of fear?  I look to the skies at night, alone often, and I know the easy answer to this question. Then I realize that the easy answer is often the hardest to live out. I am done answering questions that stop beyond the classroom only to avoid the ones that have lasting impact in life. This one, this will be the question that determines & directs the force of most of our lives. I suggest we pay more attention to it. We may be young, but let us never be young & stupid. Young and fun, we are. Young and tasteful, we will remain. Young and apply endowed to take on darkness, we are fighting the fight. Yet, the fight we fight is to remember that love is the final fight.  

 

Though I don't understand the meaning of love, I do not mind if I die trying. 

I have been bound by the shackles of love & I don't mind if I die tied up. 

I am a man, be a woman now. 

Tomorrow's song (love's war)

I am sending this to Jon Foreman, hopefully something comes of it. :-)

V1: She closed her fists as she shouted romantic words.
Two separate passions, divided by death & birth.
Up on the watchtower she sees the tree of life,
While men hold there guns high & women reach for their knives,
don’t talk about love’s war..

She closed her mind as she reached for the breath of life;
But what if in closing, she opened the doors of love’s evil side?
& what if her pictures & pages of wedding gowns & dresses could leave a stain…
til all known of love remains as a fantasy she refrains?

{Chorus 1}-
Oh it’s a double edged sword that we fight with.
Oh it’s a double edged wrong that we right (write) with.
& as she leaves to her battle the men will all cower & cry, cry, cry…
because love is a war where the right & the wrong reverse sides.

V2: She closed her fists as she sang with tomorrow’s song.
A future perspective divine with directive on..
A comfort, a privilege, a bleeding heart healed in time, time, time,
but men hold their guns up so high 'cause we don't talk about love.

{Chorus 2}-
Oh it’s a double edged sword that we fight with.
Oh it’s a double edged wrong that we right (write) with.
& as she leaves to her battle the men will all cower & cry, cry, cry…
because love is a war where the night & the dawn reverse the tide.

{Bridge}-
& we are drowning in the weight of what we know.
& we are drowning in the weight of the undertow.
& she is singing simple songs of relief,
As the thief comes to kill & steal & destroy love again.

{Chorus 3}-
Oh it’s a double edged sword that we fight with.
Oh it’s a double edged wrong that we write right with.
& as she leaves to her battle the men will all cower & cry, cry, cry…
because love is a war where the right & the wrong reverse sides.

Oh it’s a double edged sword that we fight with.
Oh it’s a double edged wrong that we write right with.
& as she leaves to her battle the men will all cower & cry, cry, cry…
because love is a war where both Hell & the Lord are alive...

{Outro}-
Yes, love is a war where both heaven & hell could arrive....
because love is a war where both heaven & hell come as wives.

A Christmas song

I had a Christmas list with your name on it then I realized it wasn’t a list..
it was the beating of 2 hearts.
I’ve lived the hit or miss & singled out the greatest parts.
If this is true for men then each “red” & “green” should be the starting & stop of a heart.

Oh, this Christmas is for meeting or beating “in love”.
Oh, this Christmas is for greeting  or bleeding “in love”.
Oh, this Christmas is for tripping my mind on your love.
Oh, this Christmas is for holding my heart in a glove, in the palm of your hand.

I wrote a Christmas list with your name in the center then I realized..
 it was the middle of winter..
I’ve walked ten miles for this & I find that 11 was called for.
How can someone be amazing?
If this is true for women, then all our decorations could just be like a play thing..
So we strip it down, so let’s strip it down, as I strip you down in my mind.
If all these lights are play things, why is the one in my heart on for you?

Oh, this Christmas is for meeting or beating “in love”.
Oh, this Christmas is for greeting  or bleeding “in love”.
Oh, this Christmas is for tripping my mind on your love.
Oh, this Christmas is for holding my heart in a glove, in the palm of your hand.

How can someone be amazing?
Girls like you exist for me, but for most part in fairy tales.
How can someone be amazing?
Oh, but you are to me.
Yes you are, yes you are..
You’re to me, Like a Christmas tree..

Oh, this Christmas is for meeting or beating “in love”.
Oh, this Christmas is for greeting  or bleeding “in love”.
Oh, this Christmas is for tripping my mind on your love.
Oh, this Christmas is for holding my heart in a glove, in the palm of your hand.

So this mistletoe won't be limiting love to days or weeks or years.
So this Christmas, mistletoe cries jealous tears.


Bedroom eyes

Last night I heard you walking on egg shell lines.
About that time, I heard you talking of bedroom eyes.
And in between these conversation of our feet & our mouths & minds,
there was a Siamese connection that was akin to drugs of several kinds..
Except none of them was the deadly kind..
And every other was the lovely crime of 2 hearts, I'm addicted.

Beating slowly, beating faster now, but only when you’re around..
Breathing slowly, breathing faster now, but only when you’re around..
It’s a shame that I’ve got to.. It’s a shame that I’ve got to leave you here.
Breathe In slowly, breathe out faster now.. & then lay your head to dream me again.

Last night I saw you stalking me from the bedroom blinds.
About this time, I put a dirty movie on.. to reveal what I’m really like.
And in between there was a siren from my heart, for my soul & my mouth & my mind..
And it said, “There isn’t even rehab for this one, man.”
And I tangled you up in my mind.. in my mind again.
And I’m sure I’m addicted enough to be..

Beating slowly, beating faster now, but only when you’re around..
Breathing slowly, breathing faster now, but only when you’re around..
It’s a shame that I’ve got to.. It’s a shame that I’ve got to leave you here.
Breathe In slowly, breathe out faster now.. & then lay your head to dream me again.

And I’m dreaming of dreaming.. of you.
And I’m dreaming of dreaming.. of you.
And I’m dreaming of dreaming.. of you & me where potential goodbye isn’t possible for all-time.
You can close your eyes.

Beating slowly, beating faster now, but only when you’re around..
Breathing slowly, breathing faster now, but only when you’re around..

Beating slowly, beating faster now, but only when you’re around..
Breathing slowly, breathing faster now, but only when you’re around..
It’s a shame that I’ve got to.. It’s a shame that I’ve got to leave you here.
Breathe In slowly, breathe out faster now.. & then lay your head to dream me again.

PERFECT!

This song makes me happy. It makes me feel like the double rainbow guy witnessing his own wedding during an "out of body" experience from under the very same double rainbow :P

I made a map of her piano

I made a map of your piano,
it’s telling me to love you right.
I made a map of your piano,
it’s leading me to you tonight.
I made a map of your piano,
sprung from notes both wrong & right.
I made a map of your piano,
to sing of winter’s summer nights.

Oh & she goes burning through a song that I wrote in my head.
Oh & she goes burning through a song I wrote at the foot of her bed.
Oh & she goes burning again as I break from the weekend chorus of the dead..
An echo rings into my head.. she said, she said she loves..

I made a map of your piano,
it’s telling me you are in tune.
I made a map of your piano,
it’s telling me of jealous moons..
I made a map of your piano,
& foreign planets still collide.
I made a map of your piano,
to bring you here right to my side.

Oh & she goes burning through a song that I wrote in my head.
Oh, an echo's burning like the lover’s lips full of red, as she read her lover.
Oh & she goes burning through a song that I wrote at the foot of her bed,
but tonight will be the 1st night that her song.. is bringing true love to life.

Yeah, we're bringing true love to life.
Yeah, your love brings true love to life.
Yeah, we're breathing true love tonight.
Yeah, cause love breathes truth into lies..

Oh & she goes burning through a song that I wrote in my head.
Oh & she goes burning through a song I wrote at the foot of her bed.
Oh & she goes burning again as I break from the weekend chorus of the dead..
A diamond ring sings to the stars.. she says, she says she loves

I made a map of her piano,
to find her love & sweep this gloom.
to turn the page & read in numbers..
It’s telling me of many rooms…
And it’s here in every 1 of them
that I’m making love tonight.
With a boom that's like a thunder..
Piano sing me to my love.

Oh and she goes burning through a song that I wrote in my head…
Oh and she goes burning through a song that I wrote at the foot of her bed…
Oh and she goes burning like the lips of a lover still stained ruby red..
But tonight, we’ll live out actions of our words.
She said, then she proved she loves...
She said, then she proved she loves....
She said, then she proved she loves....
She said, then she proved she loves me.
She said, she said, then I.........

Equally skilled...

stripped down Jon Foreman song (live). Based off the VERY powerful Micah 7:1-9... we went over this in 8th century prophets this morning & this song just kept playing on repeat in my mind!