Penny Rene: August 2015 Archives

Shake The Dust

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I'm not feeling it today. I even played 80's music in the car and it only had me thinking, "I listened to this?". Everywhere I look people are letting go of some dream or idea, divorce, death, job loss; all there. I found my mind wandering a few days ago, wondering what life would be like if Patrick Bonds had lived. Someone I trusted from long ago. Dead now 25 years. I must be really grasping at straws because he would probably feed me some line about Jesus and burdens and I don't even believe that shit anymore. That's how I'm feeling - like saying "shit" and "Jesus" in the same sentence is one of the myriad of things I say that separates me from other people. 

You can spend all day telling me what Jesus did or is or how God moves. And even people who don't believe any of that will still look at you as some good intentioned citizen. But when I say I think it's likely a croc of shit, I'm somehow less, set aside, frowned at. But it's my belief! I feel it and know it the same way you do. I don't feel bad that Jesus isn't saving anyone, I feel bad that you feel bad about me thinking that. 

No matter where you go there's enough conformity and facade to render us all, basically, useless. And today I'm having a hard time keeping those emotions close to me. Today, this sunny day when nothing is really wrong, I feel a bit sad and angry. It happens. It will pass. But don't tell me there's a reason for it. I know there's not.


"And this one right here ah.. this is for the fat girls
This one is a... is for the little brothers
This is for the schoolyard wimps, for the childhood bullies who tormented them
To the former prom queen and to the milk-crate ball players
For the nighttime cereal eaters and for the retired elderly walmart store front door greeters
Shake the dust
This is for the benches and the people sitting upon
For the bus drivers driving a million broken hymns
To the men who have to hold down three jobs simply to hold up their children
For the nighttime schoolers and for the midnight bike riders trying to fly
Shake the dust
This is for the two-year-olds who cannot be understood because they speak half English and half God
Shake the dust
For the boys with the beautiful beautiful sisters
Shake the dust
For the girls with those brothers who are going crazy
Those gym class wallflowers and the twelve-year-olds afraid of taking public showers
For the kid who is always late to class and forgets the combination to his lockers
And the girl who loved somebody else
Shake the dust
This is for the hard men who want love but know that it won't come
For the one's amendments who not stand up for
For the ones who are forgotten
For the ones who are told to speak only when you are spoken to
And then they are never spoken to speak (La la...)
Every time you stand so you do not forget yourself
Do not let one moment go by that doesn't remind you that your heart beats hundred thousand times a day
And that they have gallons of blood making every one is an Oceans"

Mat Kearney - Hearbreak Dreamers