Today, I failed to be a man again. In the triumphant windswept nights of cities without street signs, a roguish soul finds solace in the only thing he knows to be wrong. Late nights of sleeping press those obligations where someone finds themselves face-to-face with someone they've never met but lived with their entire life. Occasionally. And then comes the time when bar-back tumblers smash to the floor at our feet, and for lack of something we don't acknowledge they exist. Or any recognition, momentarily, of the event.  There is comfort in knowing insanity when it spits into the air and rattles a chain link fence you've fit to brand yourself in it's sturdiness. Envy ensues and then the recognition that all who have it known, don't know anything but the shell of a person who they vaguely remember begging in shopping marts for bubble gum sticks. It's hell, my friend; hell. The day when the door opens and you look out to the most recognizable and cultured landscape of heaven, only to think of how much gas is in the tank of your friend's car; thankful the entire time for having been allowed to borrow the tread of their tires. It's the end of justice for oneself, when you say martyrdom is a myth and that all we can find are souvenirs from smoky New Jersey trattorias, memorialized as good when they were actually quite the same as those unintentional roof top night stompings. Yes, we find a plan but too often the dreams we never had catch up with us and then find the moment we've been waiting for and then release ourselves to momentary gladness, just before they close our eyes.


Providence - not in Rhode Island

Several wise beings have stated, when a man feels the imposition to stray from his convictions he should practice them at once. For years I have felt a desire to write about the abruptness and observations of my day-in, day-out. But, out of sheer exhaustion (I like to claim), or laziness (that which is more true) I have been inconsistent at writing.

Without being too introspective, the last few months have been a time of transition without the time to acknowledge that my life is now on a completely different path than when I first stepped foot on London street, those 2.5 years ago. Or perhaps, it's the same route but has taken that eminent transitional turn that was meant. Work at the Center has continued to progress, although the romantic period is long over and working the first nine-to-five, albeit 6:30 a.m. to 3 p.m., has been rough considering the freedom granted by the years prior.

My heart is constantly in flux, transitioning from my standard rigid coldness, to a more inclusive and understanding perspective now being around those who society would claim as the most broken. I wish I had an answer to what seems to be an unanswerable problem, much of the time, but the reality of a system so dysfunctional in its focus and allocation of resources is destined to serve many, but brutally and tragically leave out even more. And, those are the folks I'm getting to know each day. Those who walk away their lives on streets paved with fame many ventured to Hollywood in search of, only to be turned down and unhealthily treated toward insanity.

"...comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable."

Amidst the new confusion, and the community a few friends and I are hoping to establish, absolute concern with social justice and the whirlwind of emotion has lead to complete and utter exhaustion. There are ways to balance a passion; new-found desire and the willingness to listen to the whispers of God, but I have failed to this point.

A few months ago, in the midst of feeling way too comfortable and unchallenged I prayed without replete for 'affliction'. Like clockwork, and in the spirit of truth it was as if God was waiting for me to ask for that very thing - and when I did, he provided. What comes from being humbled is never grand in the moment, or the months to follow (I've found) but it does help one to grow is always a righteous desire to grow closer to He who humbled himself far more than we'll ever be able to realize.

I am thankful for my new position in a community, where i actually feel a part of a 'community' and even amid the exhaustion that I'm constantly afraid has hurt those around me who I simply haven't had energy to love as much as I wish I was able, I am humbled and praising Our Lord evermore for the opportunities he grants, and the prayers he answers even when we're feeling way less sufficient than we ever thought possible.

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