john donne.

Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

sunshine and marshmallows.

i've gotten somewhere.

i may be witnessing progress.

it may be too soon to call it that.

to avoid an explosion, let's just write it off as a good day.

supermarket wisdom.

i believe i may be falling in love with the theory of cynicism. let me rephrase that - optimistic cynicism. not because it sounds fancy, because it is a sharpener to my blade that has become so dull. in a world where people and ideas are black vertical bars trotting in their black vertical formations, i am that really annoying horizontal reddish-orange beam that scans and scans until some sort of blindness occurs.

but hang with me - the good part is coming. the part that doesn't make me look like a half-crazed hater.

like i said - the cynic in me is the same one who keeps me up to date. it keeps me fresh. i have a better understanding of things around me when i use cynicism. this theory paired up against a conventional thinking process produces nothing but question marks. but what i mean by all of it is that if you tear something down until you can't tear at it anymore, and a piece of it is still standing, you know it was a structure that was supposed to be erected. no matter if you like it or not. it's like once you point out every wrong thing, the right things just glow. they glow.

this idea has it's flaws. but what doesn't?

verbage.

i'm sick of spiritual cliches. all i really want is a new dictionary for Christianity... and i think curse words should be allowed.

orangy tan things.

say what you will. this man single handedly changed the face of pop music for the 13 generations to come.

...not to mention he makes boy george look like the terminator.

for sale.

one thing about modern society that really frustrates me is the fact that exploitation is totally consistent. not only totally consistent, but also totally natural. it's kind of sick, really. our world has gotten great at taking a product, or a message, or a belief - and reducing it down to a topic of conversation that lasts about as long as the conversation itself.

a material object becomes gossip. a movement becomes a memory. branching from the mundane all of the sudden becomes total abandonment of "normal" standards. and it's all because we literally chat it up for long enough that the idea doesn't make sense anymore. it's a numbing thing that will soon become dead.

i recently grabbed an email from a non-profit dedicated to making the world aware of the atrocities that occur in Africa everyday. not something to be taken lightly, however, the email was composed of apparel. trendy sweatshirts with trendy designs. it's scary to think how many people will wear that sweatshirt and not contribute to the cause. because contributing to the cause will be taken over by too much talking and not enough doing.

i really wish i could exploit Jesus as much as i exploit having gone somewhere, or having met someone famous. but i hope to avoid exploiting Jesus to the point of nonsensical stagnancy. because he is, in fact, anything but that.

no. thank YOU, dr. doolittle.

to tell the truth, i really hate working for someone that's too nice. i would much rather someone tell me to get it done, than for another man to follow up that same phrase with "please." for all you gutter divers out there, leave the homo erotic entendre to the side.

i'm just much better under pressure. which is why, up until about a week ago, i really didn't appreciate my job.

i've been shooting lately for the most bizarre resume a company can get their hands on. so far, i'm pretty close to owning the blue ribbon. my latest acquisition is a vet's assistant at a little place called "Dr. Doolittle's Animal Care." I swear to you that this is my boss' real name. the irony kills me.

anyways. i didn't like my job. i didn't like what it entailed and i didn't like the people. so i told on them to God. expecting a much different outcome, things one-eightied and for the first time in a while i experience spiritual honesty (no, not the self-help book). i told Him i didn't like where I was at. I boiled in self pity and thought that since i'm such a contributor to society, i should be in atleast a high rise working for an oilman somewhere. as it turns out, my insides are rotting with pomp.

what happened next was great. i was finally leveled out with every other person on the planet. i experienced equality. it was blissful, you might say.

God showed me things. I began to appreciate, truly appreciate, the aroma of pizza and garlic bread at an Italian joint every time i would walk a (let's call them) patient. I had a meal that night in the same restaurant. I sat down with a large pizza and a beer and it was one of the best meals i've ever had. sincerely. I then began to revel at the fact that God creates people, not normal people, but beautiful human beings that can care so much about something other than themselves that they would work a blistering 12 hour shift for 6 days out of the week and still somehow come out on top, exposing that they actually love what they do.

God, keep showing me these beautiful things. may i never take for granted the simple delights you've provided us.