like an empty bic pt.2 / the crash of white lightning
like an empty bic pt.2 / the crash of white lightning
by Emma Blowgun
i sit at my desk and scowl at the monitor.
i miss smoking weed.
i miss getting drunk with my friends.
fuck this.
“there’s a city that needs you,â€
i tell myself.
i am the batman of cedar rapids iowa.
this place needs me.
damn this place.
a once-aspiring writer’s nightmare.
i wish i was high.
i type words and i feel empty.
“i can’t write anymore,”
i think.
i climb the stairs to the roof of my building.
i look 14 floors down and the cement looks friendly.
it winks at me and tells me to keep my chin up.
i wish i could still write.
god promised not to flood the world again;
he promised RIGHT THERE.
in genesis he lied,
and now i am stuck at this desk
because of that lie.
i wish god was real so i could look him
in the eye and say,
“fuck you man. your bullshit ruined my shot.”
son of a bitch.
i’d give anything to make it.
“Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him: “I now establish my covenant with you and with your descendants after you and with every living creature that was with you-the birds, the livestock and all the wild animals, all those that came out of the ark with you-every living creature on earth. I establish my covenant with you: Never again will all life be cut off by the waters of a flood; never again will there be a flood to destroy the earth.”
There will be floods but none will destroy the earth. Life does end but it won’t be because God wants a do-over. If He doesn’t get anymore attempts at getting it right than why should anyone expect it? He is stuck trying to make what already is the best it can be. An admirable goal. It’s the one for which I strive.
Wink back at the concrete and promise soon but not today because you’re off, busy saving the world from itself.
this really hit home!
yah. god keeps dicking me around too.
God told me that Emma Blowgun will make it.
hey really, don’t beat yourself over creative constipation, it comes and it goes. unless you’re inspired by the smell of guts. why’d you quit smoking? never would i ever. good to see you around. i’m a fan.