Thursday, October 4, 2007


I do not understand why I am the way I am. I continually struggle with figuring out the in’s and the outs of this mystifying, translucent, yet, suffocating life. I tumble through novels, underlining with the intention to have the weighty intellect found within the author’s imaginative fingers, the fingers that stain the pages with theological/philosophical words that in turn become blistered into my brain.

Once, these words find a home within my own theological/philosophical thought process I vomit them up onto paper, or humanity, which ever is closer or better yet which ever I feel like confusing or destroying with my new found insight. I talk with a purpose but I walk timidly like an executioner. I talk with large words about skeptical theories, that our riddled with heresy and carry the distinct smell of “conspiracy”.

Usually my audience consists of my wife, whom always listens with large ears, or coffee shop attendants whom look interesting, they unlike my large eared wife, will often find fault in my theories. lambasting them with the latest “truths” discovered within the latest Michael Moore novel or an odd Buddhist clarification. As if, I was a misguided follower of the Iron chunk, which I am not.

I follow a Jewish man that has been hijacked by an ideal, a motive, a country. A country, that has spent its entire existence hijacking things, peoples, nations, beliefs and…well…things.

This Jewish man has furthered my confusing of why I am the way I am. I often wonder why I spend so much of my time attempting to figure out such an odd, smelly, dirty man that lived within the oppressive confides of 1st century Roman rule. Maybe, just maybe, as I think about it some, I to like this Jew am an odd, dirty man, living within the oppressive confides of 21st century American rule. Like him I question the way in which things presently seem to be and the way which things can become , the powers that be.

I get nervous, exhausted and overwhelmed. I attend a college that i should not be attending. I do not fit in. I am an odd ball, an out cast that finds fault in leadership but is to ashamed to stand up to the fault.

I carry odd dreams.

I am to exist.

I do not exist

A body exists

Programed with the beliefs of others

I am conditioned to be conditioned

I desire holiness. I desire justice, mountains and gardens. I desire to worship bare foot, outside with my community. I like to listen to Marty strum the guitar and listen to Steve teach. I remember once standing outside with a few people from RVCC, it was cold and early. Marty played Cat Stevens and Steve prayed. I remember thinking at that moment that there is know where else in the world i would rather be at that moment. In that valley with the sun rising, my hands numbing and mind at rest.

I miss home. I miss home.

I have never been home sick. Until Oct. 2001 i never felt at home anywhere.

, a robot-like man programmed with the beliefs of others. I am conditioned to be conditioned.