Dear God,

Remember when you asked Adam about eating from the tree? And he said, “The woman YOU put here with me, she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.”?

Sounds like me don’t it?  I know me being a failure wasn’t your fault at all. I just don’t understand. Anything. “You’re supposed  to know my heart. And know all the hairs on my head.  So I highly doubt you missed the tears. Even if I don’t know how to pray right there is no way you couldn’t have heard one.

Supposedly you’re touched by our feelings. How could mine have touched you and you leave me lost and alone. Alone except for the enemy. Alone except for all the people I’ve hurt.

I became what I  hated and fought. Please Jesus be touched. Please. It wasn’t the woman you gave me. It was the calling. I thought it was from you. Please help.

My own beard and hair are streaked with gray. I don’t recognize myself much in the mirror. Good. I’m dreading the point at which I have to shave. I came in weighing 320 lbs.  Went to medical for vitals to be read. Getting paperwork straight. Current weight is now 260. I don’t believe it. Blood pressure low. Pulse 128 bpm. Have horrible dizzy spells so bad I almost fall out of bed when I roll over. I think in addition to destroying my short term memory my little spell of drug abuse might have messed up something a little more serious. 260. I always thought my skeleton must weigh at least 180.

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All things work together. I’m praying for you. Trust in the Lord. I can do all things through Christ. Read the Bible it will strengthen you.

I think people stop using cliches after someone uses one on them during a crisis. I have a beautiful Brand New BIBLE. Took a lot of trouble getting it to me. When I’m at my lowest I take it out for a little help. I look at it like its an instruction manual for a Russian nuclear sub. Written in Russian.

I guess I’ve lost my mind more than I realized. I don’t even know how to use the Bible anymore. Try letting it fall open to a scripture. Did that. The building specs on the badger skin coated tabernacle didn’t really lift my spirits. Nor did UFO’s seen by a naked profit.

I’m reading through even the New Testament and words are blurring together and my mind is loose and ungrasping. I don’t know anything.

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Whoeever battles with monsters had better see that it does not turn him into a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.

 There was a time in my youth where my mother called me the antichrist. (she however, does not remember this EVER happening.). Just several occasions but enough  for it to take root. My brother thought and thinks it was a hoot. I didn’t and do.

At the time I puzzled over it. I didn’t feel like the antichrist. Sure I got trouble but I loved the sweet Lord.  Wouldn’t dream of overtly trying to derail any plans he might have.

A few years later I asked my Pastor if someone could be the antichrist and not know it. Perhaps the ultimate Manchuria-Candidate.

He laughed and assured me that no the antichrist was or would be fully aware of his role and participating in it with enthusiasm. Needless to say it took a huge load off my mind and heart. Now I’m portrayed as a monster. By more people I loved and cared about. I don’t feel like I’m a monster. I certainly don’t want to be a monster. But what makes something real? It is all of them treating me as if I were?  Or how I feel?

Is the value of my soul based  on popular consensus even if only a partial view is available to them? Or is my self-worth based upon what I view it as? I’m not sure. Frankenstein’s monster was created. It came into being with faults not its own. But its faults nonetheless.

In the beginning it wanted out of the cold and developed a friendship knowing something was wrong with itself but not sure what to do.  When all those around it began to attack it, it reacted and became the monster. And suffered an exile as the end result.

Maybe I’m a monster only if I become one based on my reaction to everyone. If I become what they accuse me of being then I am a monster. But if I am what my heart thinks I am then I don’t lose my humanity. I don’t know anything.

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Last night I went to bed thinking about how I could write a book if I were real wise (Dobson) insightful (Yancy) profane (King) or trendy ( I don’t know I don’t read trendy authors. Think Oprahs Book Club).

Since I’m obviously not wise or insightful I thought profane. But no.  I just don’t have it in me. Baby-killer is STILL trying to get me to curse. So I opted for trendy. I know I said I didn’t read those but I’m a liar. I just got done reading one of Oprah’s Book Club selections and I swear it was the most dull book I’ve ever read. But it was long and in prison you do what does your time (see thats the kind of line that would be in a trendy book. I might be good at this).

So. Seeing as how I’m bored to tears I thought I’d relate a little tale.  Wrote a story about it. Wanna hear it?  Here is goes…

The eighteen wheeler jerked as he shifted from first. The tail lights fuzzed through the dust it kicked up and seemed to wink at me as if they knew a secret I didn’t.  They left and never told me. I looked around. The desert was a deceiver just like the one-armed man waving from the Strip in Vegas. Smiling and waving.

It was night and it was cold. The wind ripped through my tshirt and shorts. Just this afternoon it was 118 degrees in the shade. Now it was 20 degrees in the shade. The wind assaulted me like a billion little glass daggers  ( yes, I said a billion with a B, in trendy writing you can’t just say you’re cold).

I looked up and saw a million stars. Winking at me. A million celestial truckers driving into eternity with secrets that they can’t or won’t or don’t ( yes, can’t – won’t – don’t, you HAVE to love absurd sentences) share with me.  I looked both ways and crossed the two lane highway to the truck stop. (Have to have the ambiguous ending).

 

 

Well, there goes my first little foray into trendy writing. Send me an email at kissit@gmail.com

Next installment I’ll write and use obscure literary and cultural references that no one gets but everyone pretends to so we can all look like we know about something more than American Idol and L.C. And after that, I’ll use big words EVER fewer people understand. NYT Bestseller List here I come.

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Don is an idiot. As much as I lover Raymond I hate Don. Even his name is stupid.

Don doesn’t mess with me. I hardly ever talk to him. You ever meet someone who  makes you wanna punch  him just  by the way he looks?  It was probably Don. He’s real scraggly looking like a bit fat stupid looking muslim. He actually, and I’m not making this up, wraps a sheet around his head like a Muslim headpiece.

When the guard gets on the intercom (its against regulations to put anything over your face or on your head) or say something about it at the door, this moron  tells them  its his religious clothing and if they don’t bring him a prayer rug and tell him where East is that he’s going to sue the jail. And they laugh and walk away.

One day he wanted them to refund $8 for a haircut he didn’t get. He ACTUALLY told them that he was going to blow up our pod if they didn’t give him his money. Someone from our pod was getting a haircut up front and told us that they heard over the radio that a Muslim was going to blow up our pod and all the guards left.

Don had told them he was a suicide bomber with 12 pounds of dynamite. They thought he was hilarious. The guards. I think he’s an idiot. He’s always saying goofy stuff like “Oh boy” and everyone starts it all the time. Hardened criminals.

The other night he told Lee that once he’d caught an albino catfish. Named it Wayne and put it in a bucket of water. Little by little he drained the water until one day there was none left. He had trained the catfish to breathe air. He just kept it damp so it wouldn’t dry out. Said that  he took that catfish everywhere. Trained it to flop beside him around the house.

One day he went fishing and took Wayne with him. Just set him right on the dock beside him. Well one of the bait crickets jumped out of the little cardboard box into the pond. Wayne, being hungry and loving crickets, jumped in after it, And drowned.  Yeah they all think he’s soooo funny. Well I don’t. I think he’s sad.

IMW

6699

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Song 7 – Written by Branden E. Carter Jr.

This is to some one who liven on the road of groly. Now I know your teiling your stroy how you made it over. Befor you went away. You where a freind to me. You will always be within by heart each night an day. But now I just got to whate. An stay on my knee’s an pray that tomorrow will be a batter day.

Now I can know how much life mines to me. The time that we have is not lone but your love will live on after your gone. I pray that some day some one will think that way about me someday.

God has you in His arms knowing that on one can do any harm. So that you can sang your song in the home that God has made for you in the land of groly. So one day we can teil our stray togrether How we over come. The stromes an the rain of the panful ways of life.

Their where some good days alone the way. But now where hair to stay on the road of groly. We will teil our Stroy on this day of groly. Now we live on the road of groly.

By: Branden E. Carter Jr.

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Wife

I miss talking to her. I miss everything. I’m sorry. I wish I was better. IMW

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Sweeter

I wish I had been  able to be sweeter all the time. And patient. I learn incredibly well, its just always too late. I’m sorry, I wish I had been sweeter. I’m real sad. And sorry. IMW

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I was always Sure of Prison

Everyone thought I was crazy for being so sure that I was going to prison. I’ve known since I was a child that I would spend time here.  Was it because of all the teachers who kept telling me I was rotten and would wind up there?  Or was it somthing I just knew? Maybe.  I was certain beyond anything months ago. I had everything. And for two years I kept praying, “God please take everything from me. Take it all and let’s see if I’m still going to love you. Make sure I’m serving you for the right reasons?” Every single day I would pray that. Lost my home, my career, my reputation, all my belongings, people who claimed they were my friends. And my wife. I didn’t count her because she was part of me. Don’t pray stupid prayers. Even the disciples had to ask Jesus how to pray.

Then like the idiot I am I kept praying that same prayer. So I lost my health. And short term memory. And basic motor skills. My hands shake. Badly. Then like the idiot I am I kept praying that same stupid prayer. God you forgot my freedom. Hey Mrs. Jones! Ya forget our test today? But I know the sweet Lord very well. So I knew he would take that too. And he did. God answers prayer. Every single prayer. It just might not be the answer you want to hear. And I think I asked for too much. Because it hurts. Dear God it hurts. Losing the other half hurts worse than anything. But I haven’t left God yet. But it hurts terribly. Beyond anything I could imagine. Maybe forever. Probably forever.

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Birthday Presents

I remember some really great birthday presents and parties I’ve had growing up. G.I.Joe tanks, guns, money, cake at the pizza place, balloons at the zoo. Cards with money. I was the center of attention. I’ve given some pretty extravagant presnts to people for their birthdays. I’ve even put some nice parties together. Thinking about a friend of mine. He’s had AWFUL luck with every one of his birthdays since I’ve known him.

He gets plenty of parties sure. Every year. Millions of people show up. Billions of dollars are spent on presents, decorations, and food. The party lasts for several weeks. Sadly though none of the presents are for him. No one talks to him when he shows up. If he’s mentioned it’s just in passing. Every person on Earth gets presents at their birthday party. He gets nothing. Sorry Jesus.  I miss wife.

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