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it wasn’t a good weekend.  

with saturday came  little productivity or focus.  the mind was everywhere but yet nowhere.  the mood was melancholy at best.  

once i figured out the root cause, i was better for the knowing but then only left with the knowledge.  

sunday was better, i suppose, but really only masked over.  the emotions still lurked, being barely held at bay by other principles.  this was the day that yesterday had placed before me but i still found no peace.

i wanted to call, but how would that help anyone?  i certainly didn’t want or need to hear of wrongs, consequences, should ofs…  

i wanted to hear the truth of the matter at hand.  i don’t think it would include things such as those written above.  we’re beyond that.  

but what is here?  what is the truth for this time?

perhaps this is a day of mourning now?  a twisted anniversary?  something you never put behind you?

it’s tuesday now.  the uncelebrating should be over…

does the eleventh hate me or do i hate the eleventh?  can we ever be friends again or is life forever meant to be lived only in 364ths?

WARNING:  Edgy… and perfectly on target… and best watched on YouTube (link below)

Can I offer you a penny for your thoughts?
As a matter of fact, how about three?
One penny for you, one penny for me,
And one penny for our minds engaged not so sexually.
Getting intimately closer as we approach the
Climactic altitude of nude, mental, sensational… conversation.

Because I’m trying to get to know everything about you
From the neck… up.

So these are not your typical, sexual, poetical prose.
I’m trying to close the door on that all too familiar freaky foreplay game.
With which most guys have chosen to approach you.
While they are trying to get deeply embedded
In the fine fibers of your bed sheets,
I’m trying to find and define the fibers of which your mind speaks.

I want to engage you
By putting a two karat solitaire diamond… on your mind
Marrying your every thought!

I want to lick every inch of every crevasse
So I can get an oral fix from each orifice
And taste your passionate… imagination.

I’d rather be naked and exposed, holding you
As we’re lying and you’re crying
While confiding and describing
the tough times you’ve had in life
And how you don’t know
If you can keep a relationship long enough to be somebody’s wife.

I wanna feel the heartbeat of your inner rhythms
As they lead me toward your warm, wet, waterfalls of feminine thoughts.
And I’ll swim in them.
From backstrokes, to breaststrokes,
I’m penetrating every entrance… to your mind.
Taking my time to find out everything about you.

Did I ever tell you about how you
Fell asleep in my presence?
And your mere essence
Kept me awake for hours
As I cowered with this feeling
Of sexually unadulterated mental connection?

And as you lay by my side
I pushed the blinds aside
And took the time in the moonlight of that night
To count 72 eyelashes
On the upper eyelid of your right eye!
Because when you sleep
Your eyes remain open slightly.

And while we probably moved in too quickly into some sexual stuff
I’ve always cared more about the explicitly illicitness
That came from between your lips… meaning your voice.

So now I am standing here
Ready to trade in all the sexual acts that we’ve performed
For the chance to reform the very foundation
And the basis of our relationship.

So I reiterate my opening statement
And I offer you another penny for your thoughts!

(“Penny For Your Thoughts” – Gemineye.
Performed live here.)

You don’t fool me, Mr. You’ve Been Pre-Approved For An American Excess Platinum Card Junk Mail Envelope. What does that even mean? I’ve been approved because I have a street address? I’m approved because you think I might be dumb enough to make use of a credit card that dings me for 74.99% interest on all purchases? Got news for you, bud. Congratulations! You’ve been pre-approved to kiss my backside and formally make the acquaintance of my friend, Mr. Paper Shredder.

Dude, I gotta give it up to Mark Batterson.  He said what I was thinking before I wrote it.

Have you ever stopped to thank God for the simple fact that He designed the universe in a way that we experience both day and night?

For some reason, He designed planet earth in a way that we’d make one full rotation around our axis every 24 hours. And I’m so grateful. Why? Because I have bad days. But I can go to sleep and wake up the next morning and it’s a new day! His mercies are new every morning! I think our daily cycle is God’s way of saying, “You get to start over every 24 hours.”

So thank God for a new day. And thank God for a new year. For some reason, He choose to design our particular galaxy in a way that we’d make one round-trip around the sun every 365 days. And then we get to start over.

We sang the Song of Hope by the Robbie Seay Band on Sunday. It’s one of my personal favorites. And I love one line of lyrics: I can start again.

So true. So grateful.

When you read a book, do you read it from cover to cover?

Or, do you start to read it and then come across something you don’t particularly agree with… and put it down?

Or perhaps you never read it at all, because you heard somewhere that it has some “questionable parts?”

Neither approach is ultimately right or wrong, except when it comes to reading… biographies.

How do you read people?

Perhaps you never read them at all, because you heard somewhere that they have some “questionable parts.”

Or perhaps you do start to read them, but then come across something you don’t particularly agree with… and put them down… literally.

Or perhaps, you read them from cover to cover, investing a little, discovering their story, from their past to their present.  Yes, there may be some questionable chapters, but one chapter doth not make the whole story.  In fact, one bad chapter often sets the stage for marvelous discoveries in the next.

Oh, that we were known as people who carefully read one another’s pages, even choosing to be written into another’s story by the Author we have in common.

I’m reading this book called, “Captivating: Unveiling The Mystery of a Woman’s Soul.”

Yes, yes, I know: “Why would you possibly be reading that book, Matt? You are a gem of a fool when it comes to topics such as that, so perhaps the reading would be educational… but you are also committed to healing and singleness and full-on friendships and building anew on that now firm foundation of your life and, and, and, … so why do you care about unveiling some poor woman’s soul?”

Well, the book came from Michele with the intent of helping me understand my daughter so I can better be her father.

So there.

And with that goal, I began reading the pages of said publication on one post-Christmas morn.

In short order, I learned:

Every woman longs for three things: to be romanced, to play an irreplaceable role in a great adventure, and to unveil beauty. That’s what makes a woman come alive.
“I simply love feeling beautiful, wanted and fought for.”

When we (women) are young, we want to be precious to someone — especially Daddy. As we grow older, the desire matures into a longing to be pursued, desired, wanted as a woman.

Alrighty, so I’m tracking along nicely thus far, of course having already known all of the above… and with a stellar resume to prove my proficiency…

And then (and this is where I change the topic), the author’s deliver a quick one, two punch:

1. God created man and woman in His image.
2. Woman is created last. She is the crescendo, the final astonishing work of God. The Master’s finishing touch. His piece de resistance.

Alrighty, so I’m cool with that. I get it. Adam ain’t got no game. And I for sure know that the estrogen-based life forms are real pieces of work… (oops, I digress…)

With one sentence, all of the above (not including my stupid commentary), came to a jaw dropping conclusion: “God wanted to reveal something about himself, so he gave us Eve.”

Read it again.

“God wanted to reveal something about himself, so he gave us Eve.”

Could it be that God wants to be pursued like a woman does?
Could it be that he wants to be loved like a woman does?
Could it be that he wants to be desired like a woman does?
Fought for, thought of as stunningly beautiful, cherished, …

Could be.
They are made in His image.

We smile and nod our heads.
Occasionally we say, “Hello.”
We stop and talk over the top of picket fences.
“How are you all doing?”
“Good. How about y’all?”

Sound bites of sentences
Pieced together over months
Combining to make up a conversation.

“We really need to have you over to dinner.”
“We would love to. Give us a call.”

One day a sign shows up in your yard.
The next month you’re gone.
We didn’t even get to say, “Bye.”
(Stephen James)

“… and love your neighbor…”
(Jesus)

“… before they’re gone.”
(Matt)

“The thought of life in heaven is nice, but can you help me with life today?”

“You speak of Christmas and Easter, but can you tell me what to do with those months in between?”

“Where does all of that intersect with all of this?” he persists, motioning towards his tattered jeans and a worn backpack that contained, with room to spare, all of his life’s possessions.

“Is the purpose of Christianity only about being able to go to heaven when we die?”

I understood. And thus began the real conversation.