(an excerpt)
but after a lifetime of craving acceptance from their cruelty, she now
finds herself jamming polaroid pictures of these people into her
typewriter and pounding out the last letter of the word "mercy" over and
over.
She strikes the key "y", "why why why why why." And the answer comes in the form of a hand written letter from the moon.
It says, "This is brutally beautiful. So are we. This is endless. So are we. We can heal this." Signed, Crater Face.
P.S. See me for who I am. We got work to do.
But my father, he didn't read moon, he didn't speak moon, he didn't write moon. So
there was no note left next to his body when he decided to leave this
world on purpose without telling us where he was going or why.
There
are still days you can catch me tape recording eternal silence and
playing it backwards for an empty room. Just so I can listen to his
dying wish.
It's true. The apple doesn't fall too far from the
tree. But thank goodness, My family tree was in an orchard on a hill
that rolled me to the river and that river ripped me through the rapids and
those rapids rushed me into this moment. Right here, right now, with
you at the mouth.
This is my church. And this church is a house
of healing. Hallelujah. Welcome, come on in. As you are. Have a look
around...
