God was a carpenter because
I don’t know any carpenters.
That is a way to start a prayer,
in the same way it is to end one.

Sometimes in the middle of
crossing the road I stop to
think of the luminal space
between God and pavement.

Consider: God as pavement.
Consider: God as atheist.

I am not religious. I never have been.
But I cannot explain the role God has
in my life. It is as though God in my
mind has become a sort of metaphor,
for this great hand that keeps the
gears running, the machine churning
out word after word in search of meaning.

Perhaps to think of God is to think there is greater meaning out there,
beyond our control, beyond our grasp. Just waiting out there like a dog
on the lawn, his owners long retired for the night into their blessed
rest. Imagine being that dog, completely free to be helpless.

Perhaps many things are God in my mind, in the same sense
that they are all metaphors for this feeling I cannot explain.
I think of Sylvia Plath. I think of Skisbrud, I think of cups
and cups of coffee being sold and drunk at the hospital.

Sometimes when I turn on the TV, I see that fear too.
I am fascinated by the idea.

Maybe as I write, I am slowly reaching godliness. Holiness.
To be pure of spirit, to write without intentions. I only write
because it is natural. There can be no sin when I have no will.
My hands are typing faster than the teleprompter in my head
can tick out its pithy phrases. My voice is struggling to catch up
to this speeding bullet after bullet after bullet after bullet.

Whenever I read about the school shootings in America, I wonder –
where is God? Is he the bullet? The gun?
The bullet hole, the absence of flesh?

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.

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