09 September 2010

Goodmorrow goodfellow,

Pleasant day to you. I am writing from the centeroftheworld, and I have some important things to say to you today. These are things that resound. That echo. That glisten. I want to say them plainly, but I have no mouth for words like these. Instead, I dreaming HUGE Words: Tyler McGee greatness and sometime I act greatness (okapi-rare), and thistime I write of greatness in silly wordlings that think justice would let them eatcake. Truly, nowords can speak truth, and thesewords merely giggle and grasp, and can only hint. But this topic is worth the dropping of clues. For this topic I would eat a thousand redherrings, though me be vegan.

I have a lover to speak of.  She is the light in the darkness. He is the Day in the Nightime. She is the moon's-eye in the depth of the well, winking with cloud-lids. Her name is Faith, and his kiss is freedom. His name is Trust, and her hand holds the world.

! t h i s o n e t h i n g i s c r u c i a l l i k e n o o t h e r !

Now trust is a smallthing and we think we know its ways. We have heard its advice; we have listened to its name overandoverandoverandover (like a monkey with a miniature cymbal?). And so we think it is a usual thing, a normal thing, an understood thing. But this green and fertile land, this England, knows little of TrueTrust.

Let me tell you of trust.  Let me tell you what I know, what you know; of what I do not live, what we do not live.

Trust and faith are bedfellows and if you let them into your heart, or better still into your actions, they may deliver great fruit.  Example: this text.  I could not write without trust that what I write is worthwhile. Not saying I am grandiose, or pompous, for dearlings, the same is true of ALL PEOPLE.  There are things they write with actions, or with thoughts, or by presence alone, that I could scarcely dream.  They write symphonies in the lives of others, or dark horrors that reach for the light.  They paint pictures, on canvass, in sand, in dreams, that cannot be held in eye or mind with ease. 

But all fail to see the fullness of their selves; it is hard to trust yourself.  Example: I sat on a bus and could not stand up for a young boy, taken the piss out of by some godawfuldrunk.  Why? Because I was afraid.  Because I did not trust in the picture I could see so clearly in my mind.  I could not be that man, or live the moment when I stood up and said, 'mate leave him alone for godssake.  He's only young, what's the big deal?' and the others on the bus also said, 'yeah, leave it mate, what's the point?' and the kid knew that people cared about what happened to him, and the drunk knew that such behaviour wasn't acceptable, and this would have been the real world and not a a a sillythoughtthatdoesntmeananythingcomparedtoACTIONS.  And why? Because I had no trust in myself, no faith in the others on the bus, no trust that what i knew was really right.

And the TRUTH is - we know what we're about. We've always known.  It isn't a big ideal.  It isn't politics, or religion, although it's also both.  Its living right.  Just living right. Being faithful to your promises, to your commitments. Being trustworthy, and doing the best for yourself, but not at the expense of others.  It's not hard, and it's the hardest thing in the world.  I've been thinking about it for ages now, and I still can't get it right.  I have a feeling it'll take a lifetime, but to be honest, I've got faith.

Trust.