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Kingdom of Heaven

To write, I need to be in a quiet, empty room, preferably at my own desk at home. It is two motorcycle-sized rectangles connected by metal beams. The desk is either broken or improperly installed, though I cannot recall which. Probably the latter. I have to go blind, as it were, completely oblivious to most of my surroundings. My hands will, at times, just go seemingly on their own. Though I know I am not, that type of Zen experience can make me feel as though I am communing with something far beyond this world or even the next. It is a wholefully dramatic experience, something I regard as spiritual. I’ve told my partner on a few occasions that I call this, “going into the portal.” It’s kind of a joke, but also feels massively accurate.

This whole thing comes at a massive cost to me spiritually and mentally. I may feel drained for days afterwards. I may go on a bender. It is such a strenuous push mentally and spiritually. I understand Aquinas so fully. It all seems to make sense, minus the fallacies and the time gone by, when I am pulled that close to the thing.

One has to focus on one thing so intensely that it becomes one’s life. In this lies the kingdom of heaven.

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