Poetic Imagination
Eyes of God
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The Eyes of God

By Jaystone


It has once been said that people with mental disabilities contain in their grasp the very eyes of God. I mean have you ever looked into the eyes of a mentally challenged person and seen the fragileness of his soul, almost as if God himself is peering into our very existence.

I can remember instances of life which I wish I could change. Fuck, don’t we all. If in every trial we go through and we fail to learn something new, then we have failed in our quests as human beings. We have just alluded ourselves to the notion that we have it all figured out, when we actually know nothing. Nothing as in nothing! How can we in our finite mind comprehend or fathom the deepest depths of our very infinite collection. We gather, as moss to an old oak, bits and pieces of information which can lead us to realize that we are our own destruction. We can live forever, it is just how we properly manage ourselves with our time allotted.

I wish to propose to you a tale. A tale which will truly tell the intent of your aspects of living on what we consider to be our home. Sit back. Relax. Let this morality tale guide you into a grand reasoning.

The Story

She spoke too damn much. I had wished she would of shut up, but who am I to tell someone how to act. I barely keep myself going. I am a mess. A mistake of two pools, one sperm, the other an egg. Being born has been my worst experience yet. I have lived many. I could tell you…nah that wouldn’t be necessary. I will tell you that I have stared into the eyes of God and missed what grandiose splender I could of witnessed. Life treats us unfairly. We fucking are pawns to society and what it has to offer. Back to the story.

She spake too fucking much. In fact it irritated me to no end. I felt as if I was becoming intensly filled with the profound hatred only those who have crossed over to murder have felt. I mean she spake venom and I wanted none of what she had to say. I told her in a polite manner things which can amuse even the grandest of scholars. I wanted to pick her brain and see what nuggets I could muster from her ingrated soul.

First, I made her feel comfortable around me. I gave her the illusion that I was more superior than her, yet not letting her attempt to gather the subtle hints I gave her to the contrary. I asked her what she thought about life. She became silent. This is when I knew I had her with in my grasp. She opined that life was treating her quite shitty. I laughed and let her know that life treats us all unfairly. Then I slid in what do you think of me? She laughed. She said, “you’re my friend.” Soon as she finished, I asked her if she was mad at me? “No why do you think I am mad?” I knew I had her now, cause she was the one asking questions. I have made her think. She now has to reason. This is how I took advantage of her. She became trusting of me enough to voice concern. I said, “No I was just wondering, cause I feel like people are always mad at me. No offence to you.” ”None taken“ she said with a hint of confusion. The barrage of word exchange went on for a while.

We smoked two joints, and my creative thought patterns were in overdrive. It was like I was a lion who had just set it’s eyes on a slow wounded zebra. The weakest of the pack. I convinced her in story form that I was a whole another person. Ok, I admit now I was lying. But I am a good liar. Trust me. No better yet can I show you by example. I do live in Missouri you know. My trap was set and she fell into them. Simple.

She began to come over more so I set my hooks deeper into her wounds. I always told her the same believable lie, letting her get deeper and deeper everyday. She was bringing me money. Which is the first trap. Of course money is the root of all evil, you all know this right. Good. Now that that is out of the way, I can blame my woes on the greed of money. Yet this isn’t a tale of greed. It is a tale of allowing God to see you who you are to him. Not what you are to others. What we are to others is worthless rags thrown into the local dump to become saturated with filth thrown by others.

That I had her treating me as a royal seems to be beside the point. But it does have it’s placement. I mean come on I am a man. I am not a sinner. I am a person frail. Afraid of allowing myself to be open to the foundations of God.

One thing about this girl, was she was holding the very issuance of being persistant. I mean I couldn’t get her to leave. So I did what a predator does. I turned on her. I was a fucking prick. I didn’t care for her anyways, so being a prick was the only way to get her to leave. She left. Oh yeah she left alright, then she called. Fuck! I can’t get rid of her. I must’ve mind fucked her hard. She thought I was her friend, never knowing I was her enemy.

I did the prick thing for a while and she kept coming over. Kept calling. Basically wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone. Times began to turn on me. Life rears it’s ugly head once in a while and captures us. Captures us to a place where we never see an end too. The death of our loved ones enraptures us to realize just how fragile we are. My father died, and in doing so being the opportunist I am, swarmed on the emotions of my mother. I am an addict. Hard to admit, but yes I am powerless. The needle becomes a lighthouse when all else is dark. Yet unexpectedly bites you as wolves rip the flesh of it’s prey. Very evil times. This girl offered me the simple answers to lifes complex myriad of shit, and I refused to dwell on her advice. Being the superior I am and all. You’ve done the same thing so don’t look at me all judgmental. My life swirled ever present to the abyss which I willfully accepted. Then life became even more ironic. My mother developed cancer and was suffering with the disease. I still hadn’t learned exactly what I should of before, so my eyes needed to be opened greater.

My mom passed and I sat alone. Confused. Feeling as if God must fucking hate me, for I have been through so much shit. Ahh let me express my feeling sorry for myself side. Come on, you have it too. Answers to life were a riddle I couldn’t concieve. My ways of thinking clouded in a perpetual haze of nonsence. Nothing made any sence. I have gone on many searches in my life. A never ending quest for happiness. The this girl told me something so profound and simple that it confounded me. I’m the person who thought that nothing can contradict my existence. Her words spoke volumes. She said, “you are my friend and I want to say I’m sorry for your mom dying.” She’s my friend. After all the shit I have done, all the posturing prickness I have become, being altered by the simple words of a simpleton. It was then I looked in her eyes. Her eyes were not the eyes which I see from, but the eyes of innocence. My heart calloused broke. My way of thinking changed. I saw that our actions do have consequences. That our karma does come back to haunt. I saw in her simplicity the very eyes of God peering into my darkened shadow of who I’ve become. I cried.

I saw another person that day, not the simple person whom I could so easily dominate. I saw compassion. She had the compassion which we all seek for, yet are not willing to grasp. Her compassion was not as ours. It was more than my broken self could contain. The eyes of God peered into me, thankfully I took this as a lesson and overcame my ego dominance. Life is a series of trials and tribulations. This is to be expected. Though it hard to comprehend. A lesson learned. Am I walking on water? Fuck no, I am still as frail as the moment in which I saw the wholeness of lifes collective conscience. What else could I be? All apologies.