Is funny in not-funny way but I have ‘problem’ with the word God . . . I think maybe the worst psychological damage I incurred was when my father told me I had to go to our country church because while he didn’t believe in it because he was a Christian Scientist, he felt I should make up my own mind. The Bible and religion taught me guilt, shame, I got on my knees and prayed but never received answers I recognized. On the other gland, I had frequent interactions with a seemingly aware reality which looked to have a sense of humor. So I’m against ‘God’ cuzza the god-church-hypocrisy folk, yet I’ve had a frequently intimate relationship with some sort of cosmic awareness . . . then I started Buddhist chanting followed byt my first LSD trip, which is probably the single biggest important moment of my life for change . . . been chanting and drugging and reading nd watching and searching and poeming since . . . and having personal interactions . . . so now I don’t talk to or of God (except I do) but talk and chant and reason with ‘Reality’ . . . you say po-tay-toe I say po-tah-toe and we do our daily dance. Anyway. I go back to the saying the godz love madmen, drunks, and fools, and I’m all three, and the luck I’ve had in my life is rather astonishing, unbelievable, so many times I might not have been here anymore, many many, plus the peple, the friends, the adventures, the seeming-angels here and there, I don’t understand but am grateful. I talk to Reality every day, sometimes it answers. I’m a current social cultural ethical outlier – in a good way – which is strange, I sound like a preacher calling for better, and yet I’ve stolen cars, trashed property, lied, cheated, shoplifted, adultered, armed robbed. I don’t really like me, and yet I do. Always thought I’d rather have been Robert Mitchum, who sorta seemed me but made money at it.
