H o m e  |  C o n f e s s i o n s  |  M a k e  a  c o n f e s s i o n  |  M o r e  A r t  ( S t a r e )

(initial sketches)
 
that I enjoy being alone.
 
  that I kidnapped a nasty, noisy dog and abandoned him at LAX
 
  to participation in the love fest of planet earth, to the flow of joy emanating within and throughout my being in the universe of ecstacy, to the infusion of art and spirit that spin the wheels of time eternal, peace abounding.
 
  nothing and I see no proof!
 
  to participation in the destruction of the earth and its biosphere as a result of being a human in this day and age living in a culture of overconsumers and fossil fuel burning Aliens!
 
  to mobilixa so fro pa-da glubba
 
  I substitute sex for love. I crave physical attention so badly, I’ve cheated 4 times. I do it because I think they’ll do it, & would rather be the first. Sometimes I fake orgasm and I always have gas!
 
  to a total lack in facing reality. La-la land loves me and I love her madly. It’s fun to pretend but I still know the truth is ticking away inside me about to implode.
 
  I protect whatever is mine by right, by claim, by extension, by loan-conscious or otherwise—by force—whatever that means to you, or me, whichever comes first.
 
  I confess that I have never made a public confession (before).
 
  that I enjoy pork rinds.
 
  to tactlessness, and reckless abandon, and going too fast—zooom—too often, and having a scratch in my rose colored glasses and not getting out enough and not going in enough and having fun no matter what.
 
  To overusing the word “walrus.” To the incitement of cheese riots. To Teasing String. I am a bad person.
 
  I love George Michael’s “Father Figure”
 
 

That although I like to be nakedly honest—sometimes I know I am not. And it almost doesn’t matter whom I am interacting with—space, people, love or even myself. Honesty is a value—admitting dishonesty is a virtue.
 
  to loving all too easily all that is no good for me. to holing on too tightly to empty spaces. to my lust for soft skin, emotional arms, and rock stars. to denying desires. to giving too much of myself away and still not enough. to being too damn sarcastic for my own good.
 

H o m e  |  C o n f e s s i o n s  |  M a k e  a  c o n f e s s i o n  |  M o r e  A r t  ( S t a r e )

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©copyright 2001 David Glenn Rinehart, all rights reserved