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SubscriptionsSites I Read
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| "Is this what your life has come to - your scant free weekend hours spent onanistically documenting these 'fruits' of your 'labours' - your life now - having your face lit by LCDs - before they kiss the shit-sticked street?"
Suddenly, with a strained sound, he bent his head into the shoes and began to cry stormily. "They're such beautiful shoes," he sobbed, his voice muffled in the smooth baby calf. "It makes me sad because I've never seen such - such beautiful shoes before.
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On Friendship
This morning I told the girl with a first name only to take the engraved umbrella on her way out into the rain.
So she took pity last night but to see her again would be, crudely, serendipity.
A movie that makes him rage with the strength of a thousand blue balls.
And at lunch time, I headed out empty stomached on the advice of the doctor.
For the bleeding - Zantac, no fruits or vegetables, plain pasta, no alcohol, no painkillers - prescription of slow death.
My other umbrella - still in the hands of her with the first, last, and pet names then.
Benedicta Arnold.
Networked, interconnected, the Internet Age, mobile telephony, and yet a few years ago I'd stand a better chance reaching her through a wink at the moon.
And in the rain, a dozen lit taxis, none alit for this limped prick.
So that's it now is it: the inevitable unsatisfaction with him.
I'm filling my stomach - triple twisted pretzels and acid rain soaked crudites.
Treason.
Expelling blood from both ends of my body, burning burrows for the rotting celery.
And all in the wake of hopeless vows to end the infringement of the constitution.
Holy vows.
"We...in order to form a more perfect union..."
And I heard promises, sheer litanies from you.
Generalissima sell-out.
"Treason...shall consist of...adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort..."
And your mercenary silence on its knees, head in motion.
The legions of black-coated doctors, heads throng back in voiceless joy.
They who stole to the morgue in the night, to revive the skin of the invisible man.
They who stole to my life in the night, to drape it over me.
They who steal stomach lining with their counter-effective stomach drugs.
Steal my consitution, the one signee who steals our two-name constitution.
Heller, Heller, Hell!
This is the betrayal of a friendship.
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| My shoes.
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| It is no security to wicked men for one moment, that there
are no visible means of death at hand. It is no security to a natural man,
that he is now in health, and that he does not see which way he should now
immediately go out of the world by any accident, and that there is no visible
danger in any respect in his circumstances. The manifold and continual experience
of the world in all ages, shows this is no evidence, that a man is not on
the very brink of eternity, and that the next step will not be into another
world. The unseen, unthought-of ways and means of persons going suddenly
out of the world are innumerable and inconceivable. Unconverted men walk
over the pit of hell on a rotten covering, and there are innumerable places
in this covering so weak that they will not bear their weight, and these
places are not seen. The arrows of death fly unseen at noon-day; the sharpest
sight cannot discern them...
But the foolish children of men miserably delude themselves
in their own schemes, and in confidence in their own strength and wisdom;
they trust to nothing but a shadow. The greater part of those who heretofore
have lived under the same means of grace, and are now dead, are undoubtedly
gone to hell; and it was not because they were not as wise as those who are
now alive: it was not because they did not lay out matters as well for themselves
to secure their own escape. If we could speak with them, and inquire of them,
one by one, whether they expected, when alive, and when they used to hear
about hell ever to be the subjects of that misery: we doubtless, should hear
one and another reply, "No, I never intended to come here: I had laid out
matters otherwise in my mind; I thought I should contrive well for myself:
I thought my scheme good. I intended to take effectual care; but it came
upon me unexpected; I did not look for it at that time, and in that manner;
it came as a thief: Death outwitted me: God's wrath was too quick for me.
Oh, my cursed foolishness! I was flattering myself, and pleasing myself with
vain dreams of what I would do hereafter; and when I was saying, Peace and
safety, then suddenly destruction came upon me...
So that, thus
it is that natural men are held in the hand of God, over the pit of hell;
they have deserved the fiery pit, and are already sentenced to it; and God
is dreadfully provoked, his anger is as great towards them as to those that
are actually suffering the executions of the fierceness of his wrath in hell,
and they have done nothing in the least to appease or abate that anger, neither
is God in the least bound by any promise to hold them up one moment; the
devil is waiting for them, hell is gaping for them, the flames gather and
flash about them, and would fain lay hold on them, and swallow them up; the
fire pent up in their own hearts is struggling to break out: and they have
no interest in any Mediator, there are no means within reach that can be
any security to them. In short, they have no refuge, nothing to take hold
of, all that preserves them every moment is the mere arbitrary will, and
uncovenanted, unobliged forbearance of an incensed God...
The bow of God's
wrath is bent, and the arrow made ready on the string, and justice bends
the arrow at your heart, and strains the bow, and it is nothing but the mere
pleasure of God, and that of an angry God, without any promise or obligation
at all, that keeps the arrow one moment from being made drunk with your blood.
The God that holds you over the pit of
hell, much as one holds a spider, or some loathsome insect over the fire,
abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked: his wrath towards you burns like
fire; he looks upon you as worthy of nothing else, but to be cast into the
fire; he is of purer eyes than to bear to have you in his sight; you are
ten thousand times more abominable in his eyes, than the most hateful venomous
serpent is in ours. You have offended him infinitely more than ever a stubborn
rebel did his prince; and yet it is nothing but his hand that holds you from
falling into the fire every moment. It is to be ascribed to nothing else,
that you did not go to hell the last night; that you was suffered to awake
again in this world, after you closed your eyes to sleep. And there is no
other reason to be given, why you have not dropped into hell since you arose
in the morning, but that God's hand has held you up. There is no other reason
to be given why you have not gone to hell, since you have sat here in the
house of God, provoking his pure eyes by your sinful wicked manner of attending
his solemn worship. Yea, there is nothing else that is to be given as a reason
why you do not this very moment drop down into hell...
And let every one that is yet out of Christ, and hanging over
the pit of hell, whether they be old men and women, or middle aged, or young
people, or little children, now harken to the loud calls of God's word and
providence. This acceptable year of the Lord, a day of such great favours
to some, will doubtless be a day of as remarkable vengeance to others. Men's
hearts harden, and their guilt increases apace at such a day as this, if
they neglect their souls; and never was there so great danger of such persons
being given up to hardness of heart and blindness of mind. God seems now
to be hastily gathering in his elect in all parts of the land; and probably
the greater part of adult persons that ever shall be saved, will be brought
in now in a little time, and that it will be as it was on the great out-pouring
of the Spirit upon the Jews in the apostles' days; the election will obtain,
and the rest will be blinded. If this should be the case with you, you will
eternally curse this day, and will curse the day that ever you was born,
to see such a season of the pouring out of God's Spirit, and will wish that
you had died and gone to hell before you had seen it. Now undoubtedly it
is, as it was in the days of John the Baptist, the axe is in an extraordinary
manner laid at the root of the trees, that every tree which brings not forth
good fruit, may be hewn down and cast into the fire.
Therefore, let every
one that is out of Christ, now awake and fly from the wrath to come. The
wrath of Almighty God is now undoubtedly hanging over a great part of this
congregation: Let every one fly out of Sodom: "Haste and escape for your
lives, look not behind you, escape to the mountain, lest you be consumed."
- Jonathan Edwards | | |
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