The next rope on the kitchen glass table

I had asked about all those who did not have access to computers. God suggested, “How about they meet you.” After thinking about it for a while I thought it was a threat to make me homeless, which wouldn’t be hard to do. Just a few steps. Like so many others. Like so many of you. But then I came into the remembrance that my God is a good God and is able convert reality into layers and that those without direct knowledge of what is going on here will still be moved along the same pathways that transverse and intermingle with the sound of a sword that is being held still. God will not harm all those white people beside the selected 90,000 that walk the path. However, we will end up at a different place, outside of Americanization, even if we are at the same location we are today. It is a waking to energy.

Today God asked me if I wanted the job. He promised me that we would still be friends and that I wouldn’t need to worry about myself personally. And that there would be no hard feelings. I almost said I decline the job. After thinking about and remembering how great this God is and what He can bring into your soul, I said yes, I want the job.

God feels like expanding a little more on the war that has been going on for ages. God feels (And felt, God wanted me to remember, wanted all of us to remember – God does feel for us about what we felt with our history. Circles Remembering.) entitled to take what action He needs to assure the safe return of His people. All He cares about is if they are safe. Again, I do not know which tribe, but also once again, I got the impression that God welcomes all indigenous north americans into His tribe, but just to be careful let us say it is not as simple as that. God informed me in a direct manner, that is a really delicate matter that He may or may not share more on at a later time.

There is a ladder for people. And we are climbing on rocks. Just to paint a smooth picture, we are out there, vain, too carried away looking, and not hearing. Do not look for God. Do not seek about in the visible places. And do not look to find God in others. That is a failing miracle. God is in the music. Really, music. And God hears all the contours of our inner lived space. He may even point out things you do not want to discuss. Like they say on a few shows I watch, you got to get it out of you and deal with it. I am not saying I have dealt with everything, but I have dealt a lot with my mind.

Listen within the nimble quarters of your inner soul or heart or thoughts or feelings, you can feel, God loves a feeler. I apologize, but sometimes God really does have a still, small voice. But now that I have time to think about it, I am no longer convinced that is what God does because it is part of His character or if He just toying with our expectations of Him. I think other white USians who do not hear God are stuck solid in a revolving Pit of their own expectations. Sort of a private hell.

But should God really pretend to be a different God? No. And He never has. He did encourage our own guilt, dedication, un-sound judgment, and barely grasping minds of self-control to go as far as we wanted with their fanaticism. What a joy it was to be removed from our society and seeing us un-earth new and industrious ways to creating pain and suffering. God knew he was judging the right distant and unrighteous clan of none. There were pretenders. There were. This writer does not want to name names, but He said some white people with a national heritage and bondswork invented the craft of the art of imposed impossibilities.

This is enough for now. We will get back and talk again soon. Remember, look for the pop-up origami in my poetry. It is on the second layer right past where you look.

Listening: An album I forgot I bought and accidentally never downloaded from Qobuz, John Coltrane with the Red Garland Trio (Remastered 2026). I think it was released nearing the end of summer. I could be wrong. I never just forget to download an album.

Reading: Not really. I only have a stack of like 7 or 8 books to read by the end of the year so I made it manageable, giving me time to take it slow until I get back into reading countless absurdly difficult language of this or that critical theory that I spent years doing and then just to fail to pick up a book one day and it was gone forever. I am tricking myself into getting back into my old, reliable reading schedule. I just feel like I am missing out when I don’t find out what is in those kind books. And I can respond to them. I could argue back in one form or another and untangle all the awful ideas I’ve come across. And I learned the most valuable lesson: that is the point. But I am reading Robert Pinsky, The Situation of Poetry. As far as criticism goes, it isn’t as good as a book I read last year, Lyric Powers – Robert Von Hallberg. That was amazing. And so true. And so beautifully explained. It is no wonder it is so well loved.