1. Sunday, November 4, 2018

    amber just gave me the sweetest compliment 

    shes been a little bit sick so shes been in bed for two days,

    i was standing with my shirt off and long plaid pajama pants on

    eating some jumbo shrimp i had just gotten for myself after going out to get her soup and seltzer water.

    she said, “you remind me of a lot of the rock stars that stay at my hotel”

    she works at a fancy beverly hills joint

    she said, “you don’t worry about anything. you’re just cool.”

    shes lived with me over a year and thats what she thinks?

    oh i worry.

    i worry this whole thing might get pulled out from under me at any minute.

    i am not in control of anything. i could do the greatest job ever on this secret project and still get thrown to the wolves. i could do a cruddy job and get praised. you never know what people will think.

    but my biggest fear is not a person at all. it’s God. i wanna go to Heaven. but you dont get in because of  your dazzling good looks or witty banter. it’s your heart. and you can’t fake that.

    what is in my heart? it aint sugar and spice and everything nice, thats for damn sure.

    of course i care about the poor and others and this one and that one but i was in the xbi. ive done some things. who knows if im forgiven?

    Yes Jessica painted this painting that i bought from her that she framed and sent to me. it says “forgive yourself. for all of it.”

    it’s hung right next to my giant bedroom tv. right above a Cubs hat. i look at it every. single. day.

    but there are some unforgivable things.

    and even if i convince myself that there arent, what if God disagrees?

    the Good Book says the only unforgivable sin is blasphemy, or more specifically denying God. everything else has been paid for by Jesus.

    let’s hope thats the case because i would like to go back to worrying about the same things that rock stars in swanky hotels should worry about: when will the creativity dry up one day, when will the pretty girls stop paying attention,

    and when will that Mexicoke ever arrive from room service?