god and other mysteries

I played hooky from work today... shhhh don't tell. I had a massage and cleaned my apartment and lied a lot to other people and to myself and now I am stilling watching big white flakes fall from the sky.

I drove RC home last night (he lives in canada I swear, ok maybe just the suburbs). But we got in a long conversation about god and spirituality and christianity. I told him what I believe, what I actually believe, and I kind of shocked myself with the truth. I told him that I can't believe in doctrine-that I don't think we have souls, that if we don't all go to heaven I would be ok with that. I said that I can't imagine living eternally like this. And can't imagine that anything could be so good. I said that if the cells from my body became soil and replenished the earth that would be enough for me.

You see I have no faith. And I say that with teary eyes. With deep lonliness and with longing. I wonder if my pursuit of the intellectual hiearchy is actually shit. I know I would be so much happier if I had something to believe in, if I knew truely what it was to love, if the world didn't exist for me in too many planes to keep track of my ideas, if I could just be happy with the day to day, to find a nice boy to make babies with and keep me warm when I feel the world pushing into my solice. And then I wonder am I living in reality, selective reality or jsut a really poor version of my own imagination.

I used to believe in things. The sunrise, kisses, pure joy, earth, laughing. I don't know if I ever believed these things were a gift, until now.

It's a david gray and snow-flake watching night -- but I have yet another dull theatre production to go to.

Looking for a life. Open to be swallowed by the world. The quest is over the warrior is sick. Following your bliss is hard when you're not feeling it.