you can leave me behind, and I wont mind. I wont mind. I.
listening to :: xiuxiu's I luv the valley oh!, massive attack's teardrop. and some sigur ros
For the non-locals, it would be important to note that today is a grey sort of day. It's cold and I'm hiding inside little-Dan's huge sweater, and wearing socks inside my apartment for the first time in months.
The cats are sleeping, it looks like someone came in and just tossed them onto the furniture, Kitten is on my bed wedged between books and bags of clean laundry. Leviathan is lying sort of precariously on the back of a chair in the livingroom.
I've been smoking black cigarettes lately. I like inhaling smoke more than I thought I would.
I think it bears mentioning that my life is pretty wonderful right now. Seriously.
Work at the Bridge is better than it's ever been, cooking on Wednesday's is a joy. Drop in is the best possible way I could spend friday night. I love the people I get to know at the bridge.
Here is what I really mean.
I feel saturated in the love of Christ. That raw, honest love that I only really feel when I pay attention to it. It's like a hum behind the rest of sound, or a pulse beneath pavement. I don't know. I feel it anyway, and I want to give credit to it. How wonderful is it that I can walk downtown late at night and feel grace permeating what I see? That I can sense mercy in the actions of those around me? That God is immediate. Present. In my next breath. In yours.
listening to :: xiuxiu's I luv the valley oh!, massive attack's teardrop. and some sigur ros
For the non-locals, it would be important to note that today is a grey sort of day. It's cold and I'm hiding inside little-Dan's huge sweater, and wearing socks inside my apartment for the first time in months.
The cats are sleeping, it looks like someone came in and just tossed them onto the furniture, Kitten is on my bed wedged between books and bags of clean laundry. Leviathan is lying sort of precariously on the back of a chair in the livingroom.
I've been smoking black cigarettes lately. I like inhaling smoke more than I thought I would.
I think it bears mentioning that my life is pretty wonderful right now. Seriously.
Work at the Bridge is better than it's ever been, cooking on Wednesday's is a joy. Drop in is the best possible way I could spend friday night. I love the people I get to know at the bridge.
Here is what I really mean.
I feel saturated in the love of Christ. That raw, honest love that I only really feel when I pay attention to it. It's like a hum behind the rest of sound, or a pulse beneath pavement. I don't know. I feel it anyway, and I want to give credit to it. How wonderful is it that I can walk downtown late at night and feel grace permeating what I see? That I can sense mercy in the actions of those around me? That God is immediate. Present. In my next breath. In yours.
3 Comments:
Am I missing something?
Is there a difference between black cigarettes and ... cigarettes?
;s
I feel so clueless.
ha, oh jer.
You're not exactly missing something, black cigarettes are black, and not white like normal cigarettes.
The thing that is different about them, other than their colour, is that they are a mixture of tobacco and cloves, so they smell sweet, crackle and leave your lips tasting of a sort of smoky vanilla.
They're called Djarum Blacks. I'm pretty fond of them.
so more herbal remedy and less toxic wasteland, gotcha
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