road to perdition

Ever since I can remember, I [Robert not tiffany] have ached for a Billy Gibbons wicked beard. I did meet a carnival employee with a killer goat, not as impressive as Billy’s but she wasn’t about to stop that Tilt’a’wirl to shave it.
Has anyone noticed that men have excessive hair on a majority of their bodies compared to the majority counterpart. I can’t help but realize Jesus Christ [perfect in every way] pobby had the coolest beard, I mean check out the artists’ rendering. I disagree fully with this time in history where a man can’t be a man at all. Not just in terms of facial hair but many attributes we were made for.
Our society has thrown genuine love, God’s love, to the dogs in trade for materialism. What a embarrassing moment when I see Gods’ face and explain that I thought of myself better because some poor shmuck didn’t have a certain automobile or that guy, that disgusting guy on the corner with that same sign day in and day out.
What right do I have, not to pour out God’s grace to everyone I come in contact with or speak of. Have I crossed the time in which I come to the realization that I am NOT MY OWN. I was bought with the most elaborate cost, the life of my Savior. We live as though we are our own gods, pleasing and stroking our egos to epic proportions, of which I am a professional.
Has anyone met my wife? You would know if you have, because she is the most beautiful woman, inside and out. I am dying to fight for her, fight for the calling that God designed me for. Do I realize not everyone has air conditioning, mcdonalds, legs, money, clean water, 2 showers, a refrigerator and pantry full of food but nothing to eat, a stomach, family, a louis vatton purse, friends, vacation, dessert, a home, a Mercedes, a church to call their own, or eyes to see this magnificent world .
I shaved my gotee, because I can’t grow a beard. Why have I not turned this world upside down, sold everything I have to put a meal, and water, and Christ’s love in front of everyone that has nothing. When did spending three dollars and twenty-nine cents on a gossip mag for the famous become more important than a life; or three lives. It takes pennies to clothe and feed a child for a day.
I have come to realize I am the captain of this ship of selfishness. Christ died for me as if I was the only person on the earth. I have lived for myself as if He doesn’t exist, as if I was designed to live for myself, what a poor shmuck I have become.
I need a kiss from my girl, a thunderhead, an Arturo Fuente, two months to grow my beard out, an ocean between us, and Jesus Christ.