Glimpses Into the Future
"I don't know what to do with you," she told me.
"you're doing a pretty good job," I replied.
"Walk me to the taxi."
We held hands, "seems appropriate," she commented. We arrived at the metro corner. "Remember when we were in Barcelona with that psychic guy and he asked you to ask me if I loved you?"
She nods her head.
"I love you. I really do. But there's no strings attached to that."
It's the last thing I said to her. We kissed, briefly but meaningfully, and I turned around and walked away. I looked back once, but couldn't find her in the sea of people.
I wandered around the streets of Madrid a bit, not really thinking, just moving, allowing the moment to wash over me. It was simultaneously a dramatic ending and a thin light ray hope of a beginning. It was too soon to say what it shed light on, but my eyes began adjusting
Glimpses Into the Future
And so what can I tell you about God? it is the nothing space in between words that convey meaning; and is it that meaning too? It is the total projection and reception of that meaning. Speaking of the logos then we can be sure that it is not that, filled to the brim with convolution. It is instead what is behind that. Is it the wind in the painting, or the shiny blinding aspect of light? It is free, that is all I will say. It is forever eternal in its nature without restraints, though as a light beam can be said to have a path, so it may subject itself to one way for a time, but that time we speak of is already in the past. God is now-now-now-now-now-no longer any of those. God is eternally fresh. Throw yourself over the hurdle of fear and find the wild spirit of God playing with fire in the dark. Wrestle with God, chase God, run from God, fight God, play with God. I'm not going to be sitting on a golden throne for a thousand years just twiddling my thumbs as eternity rolls along - I will be in the fields, with my older brother and my younger sister, causing mischief around the farm.
Glimpses Into the Future
Later on the phone I explained why I loved her - I adored her mind when it opened up and let loose all it's thoughts on color theory and our painted world, and what that shows her about God and the universe. I loved her when she danced salsa and allowed her body to twirl fierce and sexually - I loved dancing with her, and I loved my jealous heart when it watched her dance with others more skillful and commanding than me. She had never been mine and I had never been hers. All the attachments I'm made towards her have been like mental ropes tying her down, but I loved her most when she's wild. "I've let go because I love you."
I asked her what I am in her mind. She called me "risky", and it's the highest compliment a girl ever paid me.