It might be that to surrender to happiness was to accept defeat but it was a defeat better than many victories.

Catholics have more extreme sex lives because theyre taught that pleasure is bad for you. Who thinks its normal to kneel down to a naked man whos nailed to a cross Its like a bad leather bar.

Writing is prayer.

Whatever happened to our dreams The infinite possibilities each day holds should stagger the mind. The sheer number of experiences I could have is uncountable breathtaking and Im sitting here refreshing my inbox. We live trapped in loops reliving a few days over and over and we envision only a handful of paths laid out ahead of us. We see the same things each day we respond the same way we think the same thoughts each day a slight variation on the last every moment smoothly following the gentle curves of societal norms. We act like if we just get through today tomorrow our dreams will come back to us. And no I dont have all the answers. I dont know how to jolt myself into seeing what each moment could become. But I do know one thing the solution doesnt involve watering down my every little idea and creative impulse for the sake of someday easing my fit into a mold. It doesnt involve tempering my life to better fit someones expectations. It doesnt involve constantly holding back for fear of shaking things up. This is very important so I want to say it as clearly as I can FUCK. THAT. SHIT.

Realism falls short of reality. It shrinks it attenuates it falsifies it it does not take into account our basic truths and our fundamental obsessions love death astonishment. It presents man in a reduced and estranged perspective. Truth is in our dreams in the imagination.

Listen to the trees talking in their sleep she whispered as he lifted her to the ground. What nice dreams they must have

For Ragamuffins Gods name is Mercy. We see our darkness as a prized possession because it drives us into the heart of God. Without mercy our darkness would plunge us into despair - for some self-destruction. Time alone with God reveals the unfathomable depths of the poverty of the spirit. We are so poor that even our poverty is not our own It belongs to the mysterium tremendum of a loving God.

The ninety and nine are with dreams content but the hope of the world made new is the hundredth man who is grimly bent on making those dreams come true.

When I pray for another person I am praying for God to open my eyes so that I can see that person as God does and then enter into the stream of love that God already directs toward that person.

It seemed funny that one day I would go to bed in her arms and the next not feel anything like a switch had gone off. But no that wasnt honest either. This had been building for a long time. Our silences were getting longer. Our arguments more frequent. How do you stay with someone when there are no dreams to build No purpose to accomplish No meaning No meaning that was the monster that drove us away from one another in the end. Always.