false sense of function

today is the day we realize that we were right to fear our aspirations. sometimes ambition leads to a cold, dead trail. our hearts beat like the steady drum of industry. we have fixed our ears to fit the frequency of what we want to hear while we have become deaf to the truth. we have taught our eyes to see in airbrushed pigments while we have become blind to true beauty. we have trained our hands to grasp for the synthetic while our fingertips have gone numb. if creation was meant to find significance in its creator than we have found God, and he looks a lot like us. deep inside we long for something to touch, something to love. but we are merely skin and bones and our hunger will never be satisfied as we carry on with our eyes fixed to the ground in front of us. no one will survive this destructive dance. dysfunction breeds tolerance. every effort is spent concealing the leeches that sleep and grow on the back of our necks. they go on feeding while we have become accustomed to their parasitic kiss. my brother has gone missing, and i have become indifferent while his blood calls to me from beneath the chapel. the sun goes down again and the whole world lets out a collective sigh. tomorrow we will repeat the same desperate cycle. at least we know the routine here in this false sense of function. at least we have control.

autumn

here i am again. times passes all too quickly while we blink. this is my favorite time of year. this is when the lonely scarves make their way back to kiss the necks of their sun-tanned lovers. this is a time to sit and sip warm coffee in the crisp, afternoon breeze. this is a time to reflect on the beauty of life as auburn leaves light up the sky. this is autumn and it's beautiful. even the word "autumn" has an enchanting sound to it. i think one day when i die beneath the changing leaves with my scarf tied tightly around my neck, i will tell them to write "autumn" on my tombstone. not because it has some deep, philosophical meaning or because i want to inspire thought, simply because it is beautiful. but i didn't always have such an intimate relationship with autumn. in fact i used to call her "fall." those were the days i was i love with her care-free sister, "summer." fall was the reason i attempted so desperately to build a time machine out of cardboard boxes and hulla-hoops in my backyard when i was younger. i used to wish that i could rip fall right out of the calendar. fall meant no more sunny days spent by the pool. fall meant school, homework, and exams. fall meant the end of my social life. fall was always around the corner, it was always tucked away in the back of our minds while we pretended to ignore her. fall was the inevitable. and worst of all, fall was change. it was trying to cope with the ever-changing social ladder that you never wanted to find yourself at the bottom of. it was memorizing hundreds of seemingly useless facts and dates on columbus sailing ocean blue's and 1492's. it meant faded tans and long sleeves. it meant brown bag lunches and soggy sandwiches. it meant growing up, and dare i say, "maturing." maturity, a word made up by adults to justify their boring lives. but one fateful day in fall, everything changed, like things always do. it was one of those overcast days that dares you to sleep the whole day away, but instead i was off to school so i wouldn't find myself working at McDonalds one day, according to my mom. although i would rather have been almost anywhere that there, it was usually easy enough to fake education. just sit there quietly with your eyes focused on a spot just above the teacher's head while you day dream about all of summer's simplicity and the adventures you will have when your mistress returns. but this day was different. i trudged through the halls spilling melancholy with every step, just as i always did after clocking in for another shift. i sat down in some distant seat, if it wasn't in the back row i broke out my tape measure and made sure it was no less than one thousand miles from the front. if i could read the writing on the board without binoculars i was too close. but today, instead of focusing on that faithful little spot right above the Math teacher's head, my eyes drifted to the window. and instead of my mind flirting with the past and my future, my thoughts were trapped in the present, here and now. while the teacher carried on about complex fractions and radical numbers i began to panic inside. what was happening? this is not my routine and this is not comfortable. a leaf flickering in the breeze caught my eye. i tried to tell myself that it wasn't worth my time but the way it danced there on that branch captured my complete attention. soon i felt the cool breeze come through the window and it whispered to me and told me her name. "i am autumn," she said, "and i am not here to hurt you, only to open your eyes." since that day autumn has won my heart with her love. and here is it in her familiar embrace once again. i see a golden leaf clinging desperately to the limb ti will soon no longer know as home. it holds on for dear life, terrified of what's next. scared of leaving the familiar and entering into the unknown. scared that it's not ready for what lies ahead, unsure of itself. "am i ready?" "what am i meant for?" "what if i'm not good enough?" it asks. then i watch as it receives a gentle nudge and it flutters gracefully to my feet. i look at it and i see beauty. i see courage and purpose. it reminds me how precious life is, just like it will remind countless others with open eyes, and maybe even a few still lost in summer's absence. so maybe "autumn" has a little more poetic value than i'm willing to admit. sometimes i guess we find hope where we least expect it to show up.

narcissism not narcotics

my thoughts wander nomadically through the hostile landscape in my mind, with nothing but these familiar surroundings to occupy the time. i run my hands down the cold stone walls and my fingers rest in the grooves left by maddening nights spent attempting to escape the solitude. guilt settles back in my heart as i glance nostalgically at all the dull and tarnished belongings that have defined my life. a lifetime spent collecting vague ideas. a million controlling possessions that i can't let go. i reluctantly turn my eyes to the mirror. the reflection leaves me feeling empty. this is my body, an elastic canvas stretched thin over rigid limbs. my stomach turns over as i hear footsteps in the distance. i move quickly to the door and hold my breath in my chest. i shut my eyes and pray for deliverance. but they call out to me with a voice that seems to come from inside. they tell me who i am and remind me that they are all i have left. they chant in unison and dare me to look. everything inside me tries to hold back. all curiosity died but compulsion takes over. slowly i open my eyes and pupils dilate as i look through the crack in my dark shelter out into light. my heart pumps panic into my veins and paranoia seizes my racing mind. i look out onto the charred ground and fallen ash. everything is still, instantly i am brought back to the reality of my past and this lonely entrapment. i think back to the body count left in my wake and the isolation of the pandemic. i lock the door and return to the silence. i know your hand waits for me on the other side of this door, you've come to rescue me and i hide in misery.

defend or pretend

here we isolate ourselves in the middle of a forest of disenchantment. under the cover of the trees we carve a holy city. we cut the infrastructure of a new babylon under the grey clouds in the utopian sky. the branches weave themselves into a thick, impenetrable wall, taking censorship away from god. innocence and ignorance meet at a standard conformity. assimilation is legislated from the alter. all those who weren't quite adaptable enough kneel and pray for mercy in a field of their brothers' blood. pry open the jaws of infants and sing them a soothing song as they choke down the syllables of the cause. we parent a coalition of our own morality. our great system has grown and become self-sufficient. it sinks its ivory teeth into our backbone. our time begins to wind down as prophecy stands fulfilled. the autumn leaves are falling to their frozen burial ground, slowly uncovering our fraud. the ideology we built our foundation on is found to be cracked and withered. our homes are left crushed under the weight of tradition. tonight a consuming fire will paint our night sky. we watch the blaze from afar, a beauty only comparable to the flames that danced so gracefully through dresden.

not so warm and not so fuzzy feeling

So this past week I've been learning a lot about love and putting others first. As a society I think we have the tendency to think of love in a very different way than it is actually meant to be. We think that love is about having a "warm and fuzzy feeling" all the time, about living on an emotional high. We replace the meaning of love with infatuation. We are content loving others as long as we feel like loving them and as long as we feel that they love us. I think this is why a lot of marriages end in divorce, the couple no longer feels love for each other and then they bail. It's the same concept in all our relationships, not only marriage, we need to feel love in order for the relationship to be functional in our minds. To an extent we do need to feel loved, as humans that's who we are. We long for value and acceptance, and that's not bad, we need to fulfill that. But we also make love into solely a feeling and nothing more. But I've been learning that love is more than just a fleeting feeling, it's a concious decision, it demands action. It is a commitment to putting others before yourself. I read a quote this week that said, "True love takes the wants, the needs, and the struggles of others and makes them your own." That is so true, love is not just feeling emotionally attached to someone. Sometimes love is hard, and I know I won't always FEEL love for people but I can always decide whether to love them or not in how I treat those closest to me. This is why it says in 1 Corinthians 13 that love is patient, love is kind, it is gentle, it does not boast, it forgives and forgets, love is an action.

The Small Constitutional Print...

...And as a united people we will rise on the backs of the uneducated. From their sweat a great nation will be nourished, rooted in their veins. From the strength of their hands our legacy will be built in permanence. From the fertile soil of poverty we will feed our country. We will give them a meaning that they can understand and then, from the blood they have spilt, we will fill the trenches while diplomacy stalls. Now this may come across as somewhat drastic or a little undemocratic but consider the cost. Sacrifice is required to maintain our rank on the top, and better to sacrifice their sons and daughters than our own. We must preserve our dream and the spine of our great society. Manifest destiny awaits our glorious arrival. From the bones of martyrs and patriots alike we will construct our empire.

pharmacy

we have backed ourselves into a comfortable corner. all threat has ceased and we have been reconciled to our creator. we lifted our hands of despair in a medical prayer and the prescription was fulfilled, the remedy discovered. the revolution waiting to be sparked by our pentecostal tongues was stifled by our platonic throats. my conviction belongs to the stoics in the valley below. the devil and i discuss matters of faith while the ADHD war deploys reinforcements in my chest. anorexia exposes my ribs while nervosa hunts in the forefront of my mind. i have become a stranger in my own skin. if i could bury my head any further into my hands they'd be a grave. i have withdrawn to sharpen iron bars to keep the casualties to a minimum. these safety precautions have become my cage and the crowd passes a sympathetic glance in my direction, the way they would look at wild animals trapped behind glass or indians on a reservoir. some are so ashamed that they can't even bring themselves to look. this has become too much for me to handle alone. the cap sits loosely waiting for one handfull to restore Zion.