A tray of papers sit near me, still there untouched from last night when i had finally intended to attack them, as a pre-requisite for completing a VAT tax return due by tomorrow.
But the papers still sit there. Facebook started as a suitable distraction, and then a Michael Jackson video post was a trigger for a long meandering trip far away from the cold concerns of administration. Bashir's bashing interview, and yet Michael Jackson shines through the cynicism in his pure innocent love. People who love, really love, suffer. But they also experience real joy. I find it apt that I watch this in the early hours of Good Friday, a day commemorating an ultimate sacrifice.
My words are stuck. I am on the fence. Part of me wants to say, what the fuck how can someone like Bashir call himself a committed Christian and talk the shit he talks in his interview with Michael Jackson, gaining someone's trust and then betraying them. Pretending to be all grown-up with his rules of what is "normal". Prick.
If there is one thing I learnt watching those interviews, it's that we are all children and denying this truth is the cause of suffering. "Grow up" means accept your child, do not pretend he is not there and smother him. Wrong-doing comes from repression of the child, and the child will protest!
Michael Jackson was himself, and people loved him for it.
Now i've lost my point. The clouds haven't really gone, but let's not try to blow them away. Give thanks. Even to that bashing Bashir for providing a lampshade to the light, even though the lampshade is ugly, the light still shines. And thanks to Jane for posting a video on Facebook. And to my mother and father. And to Jesus Christ, for his love and sacrifice.
Something's missing.. is it the capital H?
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