the new fog

it was the first time in my life (this morning) that i was able to so clearly see just how foggy everything has become…this constant buzzing…the waiting…the drift. only through a precise recipe of low-fat, high-protein, bottom-shelf liquids, and roll-your-owns could a man be yoyoed from the heights of contentment and back through the crust of the earth into a hell of his own making, even if it was only for fifteen minutes. something must give way in the next twenty-four hours…”why the repression tom?” “don’t be bitter, be better julie” “girls don’t like to see boys cry gabriel” “i own this company what the hell have you ever done?” i have mentioned before that one must only be semi-honest in order to sufficiently diagnose at least one corner of the human race…we are all indicted by almost any statement of “fact” about how people are, because we (which includes i) have a disgusting capacity to do things, whether real or imagined, that would absolutely destroy our parents. let alone ourselves. which is why, despite our great and grand collective intellect, i find myself, once again, at the foot of the cross, admitting to Christ that i simply cannot possibly create an extravagant enough device full of lust, money and chemically-induced joy without those blasted earthly consequences. “what’s the word of the day jack?” “its broken” “the word of the day machine is broken?” “no…the word of the day IS ‘broken'”

“what does broken mean?” “well, since not all of us are bilingual (english and evangelispeak), broken is actually one of those profound and seemingly backward aspects of Christianity”…it is when the technical chart of your life is due for a positive stochastic crossover (thats for you joroshinn). it is where a man or woman, despite what the inner circle says, comes to a deep, hollow place where the need for a loving God comes to be listened to rather than ignored.

“opiate of the masses” they cry…”pathetic…figment of your imagination” they announce, with arms folded, snickers in their teeth…cigarette in hand…

“you mean like your ‘need’ for that cigarette?” i slip into pride, and my vision of Christ is lost. i forget that i smoked somewhere around 32 cigarettes at once, was attacked by a goat and pissed all over myself, bleeding to death in an alley with needles in my skull, surrounded by imaginary creatures…i never even thought it was that bad. wait…it was more like the security feed in the parking garage in fight club, throwing myself into 360 degree convulsions…and all of these analogous relationships to any activity in which any of us unwittingly sabotage our own potential contentment.

but the beauty of it is this (or so the so-called “story” goes, if the loyal army of atheists is right) – either way, the illusions we choose are real in their consequences, and if we happen to pick one that objectively is more than an illusion, then good for us all the more, as we can only simply hope that a good story could possibly be true)…nothing about asking for a clean slate with God requires our perfection moving forward, and we could not possibly be made whole without a measure of grace that seems so completely irrational, that we would call God wrong in our infinite human wisdom. i am too aware of the hourglass to presume any such thing…at least in my head if not in my actions.

~ by jaybol on February 26, 2007.

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