BAUMANNBLOG
I'm an actor, writer, publisher, book cover designer, accidental angel investor and human with Crohn's disease. Carbohydrates are my drug.
Ask me anything
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A small black bird visits me, loosely pecking around my feet at nothing. It thinks there are crumbs (which there are, many) on my table, but is too afraid to come closer. The very thing (in this case, me) by which such bounty is made possible is the same thing it fears. It does not know I am not cruel. Maybe this is life, this built-in contradiction, this paradox of Deity as Dick. Imagine this bird braving a concept of God, its jellybean-sized brain working overtime with arguments and propositions. Would it be proof of Him if these crumbs just miraculously rained down from the sky? Was it that easy, the simple mechanics of the heart under the mind’s thin film of reason? I wanted this day to be that day. With two quick blows from His mouth, a dozen buttery flakes of freshly baked croissant fall from the sky. It nearly died of happiness.
from Life Is Hell, There Is A God by Jimmy Chen
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