Prescribing Life Lessons: Broken Faith & Hidden Motives
I have numerous reasons to write this book. I think about it every day, the ideas slowly cross my mind like snapping turtles in the midst of a young summer. Sometimes they make it to the otherside of the street, resulting in pages tattooed with black ink. Other times they get ran over by pickup trucks of procrastination and self doubt. Their shells crack and explode like roman candles at backyard barbeques, never to be seen again. Most are drowned out by the humidity of the northeast, others become syncopated with the chirping birds of the damp woodlands that surround my house. I can't help but wonder what the Native Americans thought about the place that I've called home for the past twenty years of my life. The way in which they respected the earth and connected to God is something thatmodern America could care less about. As a people, they lived in synergistic harmony with their surroundings. Something that most of us know absolutely nothing about. How could we?
That's the darkened beauty that makes life so irreversibly fragile. We just don't know what the truth is, it's one big tale of existentialism. And you get to write the ending to God's beginning. I sometimes question the reasons and superstitions of men and women that don't believe in something greater than themselves. I mean, I do understand their point of view to an extent. Without faith, are we stronger? Many seem to feel that way, like they are the sole masters of their destiny, they are their own Gods. It's a respectable concept that I applaud, but am unable to buy into myself.
Cynics deter critics and sink ships like loose lips. It's in all of us. Levitation is a figurative word for rising, something that we all need to do on certain occasions. But we don't. More often than not, we never tap into our true potential. The imagery of the tip of the iceberg, with it's mass submerged under the icy water of an arctic lifestyle. If you can't feel the sun on your face, is it shining as bright as you think? If we aren't experiencing an event first-hand, does it have an effect on us? The human nature that's instilled in all of us has tremendous power when amplified by the reckoning vibrations of trauma. Whether passive or aggressive, it can sink it's razor sharp fangs into the jugular of your purpose. Procrastination prevents access to progression, it's illusiveness can embed itself into your most private thought patterns. A parasite that carries a virus that destorys ambition and saturates hope with every negative feeling that you've ever felt. Many have spoken about the idea that we are all our own worst enemy, and the factual backing supports this like a paid off politician.
On one shoulder, an angel with broken wings. On the other, a devil with a sharpened pitchfork. We've all been made familiar with this imagery. Our core lies face down between the two, trapped in a jail cell that we guard ourselves. The irony of our flawed characteristics pollutes our uncommon truth with diluted needs of attachment and falsified acceptance. It happens more than we actually think it does. I can feel myself slipping into a place of uncertainty, like I have so many times before. It's a dark corner where dreams go to die and misguided faith is sold like wax envelopes of heroin. Down the street, others will spend half their lives in psychiatrist's offices that are held together by hidden motives. A business that is built on the pain of being alive. Deathwishes are scribbled on prescription pads as a plastic smile tells a pale face to take a number and wait in line. We obey societal standards like the well-behaved mammals that we are. With our lives stringed together like clotheslines under a Southern sun - tattered and barely connected by the feeble efforts of broken clothespins. Symbols of the fractured facades and diminished desires of a human being's life on planet Earth. Forget losing track of time, I've lost track of my life. It dangles under a dark sky that's blanketed in atmospheric diamonds, floating out of reach like a red balloon filled with helium. I'm nothing but a child, grasping at thin air, as it drifts more and more out of reach. At least that's how I sometimes feel.
