I once found the first car I ever paid for by myselfabandoned in the car graveyard while I was shoot
I once found the first car I ever paid for by myselfabandoned in the car graveyard while I was shooting photos in the winter snow. I looked atit and I remembered all the pizzas I cooked topay for it, all the hours scrubbing floors, all thehours beyond closing that I wasn’t even paid forand it sat there there, mostly, in the same state thatit was when that old woman fell asleep the day thatI bought the old girl; on the way to the insurance office,ready to do the right thing. And that’s how life has playedout for me in the some twelve years since. A man does the right thing and the gods laugh at him.A man does the wrong thing and the gods laugheven more boisterously (and then the cops havea litany of fines that play as a better love story thanany other that you have concocted intentionally).And I like the idea of an infinite universe theory becausethere are certain instances where that woman didn’trun into my car. She didn’t bleed all over the dashboardof her Chevy Impala and I was just some kid angry;yelling at an idiot for fucking up my day, instead ofbegging for help for an old woman that I thought,very sincerely, might die over the wheel of somecar that she honestly shouldn’t have paid forin the first place. Instead, in THIS universe,the woman and I made an agreement and her insurance policy gave me $1,200 ona car that I paid $3,200 for on the very day that the accident occurred. Back then,I was just happy that the old woman livedand I didn’t give a single fuck about themoney I would eventually lose. But now,some eleven years later, that woman isalmost certainly dead by now and I am still living in the afterbirth of her decisionto go get a lottery ticket.And that’s almost exclusively why the ideaof God bothers me, because this presentsexactly two realities for me as I stand today:If God is present at all (which, for the record,I don’t believe is the case), but if he is, somehow,then…he or she or it is either out to get me and people like me, or he or she or it is indifferentto what happens, OR he or she or it somehowdied a very long time ago and everything isjust happening because there is nobody paying an ounce of attention (and though I don’t believein a God in any sense, this specific route is theonly one that I could even muster an ounce ofambition toward): I find solace in the idea thatthe planet earth was just kind of side-projectfor God, inasmuch this poem is. Somethingthat somebody wrote once and then just abandoned it when it got a little cumbersome.Because at least then, I could understand Godas a reality as opposed to a vauge concept thatjudges people for not believing in him and thenI remember that everybody I love right now inthis moment, at one point or another, didn’tbelieve in me or love me either. Many of themwere my enemies, in fact, and then I think that,just maybe…I might be the antichrist;if I believed in that kind ofthing, which I don’t, so instead,I’m just some guy in Iowa trying to make his way andpay debts incurred. And thenI think that Jesus probably never had a single debtin his entire life.And then my palmskind of hurta little. -- source link