I have a Jesus pencil topper on my red editing pencil and this morning, he spoke to me.
“Bunny, I am not as sharp as I used to be.”
I think it is profound but then again it is Jesus. He has a great sense of humor.
I do not collect things. Moving so many times when I first left my parents home solved that quickly. The garbage bags went from 15 down to 2 after a few nomadic wanderings; when one has 24 hours to vacate premises, one tends to only carry what requires a single trip. But, I have thought about starting a collection because the act of hoarding and coveting just one thing appeals to me. One might, by default, assume I would collect Pandas or Bunnies. You, assumer of things, would be wrong. If I start to collect Pandas or Bunnies, then I will eventually hate all Pandas and Bunnies. Everyone I know that collects something for a significant period of time, ends up hating it after awhile because everyone buys them that crap and soon their life is saturated with Collection X. And how, I say, can you hate on a Bunny. You prevent that shit straight out.
But see here, I have found something that I will never tire of: Jesus. Jesus interests me. Others infatuation with Jesus, interests me even more.
It really, only makes logical sense. My life, for as long as I can remember, has always been saturated with Jesus. Jesus and I go way back. We have been through some rough shit together, me and that Jesus. I loved him. I hated him. I forgave him. I loathed him. I didn't believe in him. I taunted him on the playground. I said I'm sorry, and shared my lollipop. I kicked dirt in his fries. I made him my pen pal.
Even he, cannot beat me in Scrabble.
We have history. Major history.
Jesus (fist to chest pound), that's my boy.
So, yea. I want to collect Jesus everything.
Bathroom towels, salt and pepper shakers, spinning Jesus lightup clock, paintings, bobble-heads, shot glasses, commemorative crucification plate, and most importantly a stuffed Jesus for sitting on top of my bed when it is made.