Friday, July 23, 2010

BANG EQUILIBRIUM

Lately, I have not been able to stop listening to the Counting Crows. Its probably the most depressing music but something about it reminds me that life is both twisted and beautiful. I have made a number of poor decisions this summer. Somehow everything seems to work out. I mean the bottom hasn't fell through the infinite abyss of hopelessness. However, people love to watch as you scramble and your foot slips and you are hanging over the nothingness.
"Look over there... do you see that girl? Hanging on the edge? I am so glad I don't play so close to the edge." Those on the proximity never see that as you inch towards the unknown and the earth begins to crumble below your feet, that so many people hang out right passed the cliff. There are staring at all the people high up there. They are so clean but they also have the tendency to be rotten to the core, at least those that never dare peer over the edge. There is too much dirt beneath the surface. "Maybe this year will be better than the last."

People have told me that I have a small obsession with India. It cracks me up that before I took a trip to Calcutta, I never gave India a second thought. It is the new trendy place to be called, I guess. Well if it serves those in need, so be it. Before I went there, I never dreamed of a place with such a grave distinction of poverty. It is possible that I could not even define the term accurately before such moments. It is important to not hold such narrow minded viewpoints that we refuse to see the truth. A picture of a very rich Indian man in a suit walking briskly pass a bony, exhausted elderly man lying on a mat taking his last breath, runs through my mind. This comes every time I begin to complain, when I refuse to see the joy in the pains of life.

I recently got a painful education on the culture of South India. I met a very distinct and attractive indian man playing soccer the day before my birthday. We talked all night and happiness filled my heart. We had moments of extreme happiness followed by extreme pain. Soon it became that every word was in a different language, and the light in our carefree eyes went out. I got so many lectures about how he could never make me happy, how our cultures were too different. All I could wonder was where that light went? It was so bright and then gone. A flash of everything wonderful in life. "You would have been taken to India and abused by his mother. She would never approve of you." "You would not be equal to him." I often have mishaps in love but I wonder... when the spirit of the Lord is present and that light is obvious, who can put it out?
Eventually the day came and I knew the entire day that there was nothing left of those moments. When it is over, we want to say we never cared. We want to say that we were wronged. The truth is that our plea will always be one sided. I am sure that most of my friends praised the Lord and were relieved that the drama was over.
I spent so many moments estranged, pondering how quickly the sand had slipped through the cracks. Spending my moments whining to my heavenly Father and waiting, knowing that every desire in me was wrong. Right after a breakup there are a lot of nasty impulses that never connect with reality.
While dating, I stopped writing which has become a regret of sorts to me. So from this moment, I begin once more. Maybe no one reads? If you are writing to get people to read, you are missing the point of writing anyway. The honesty in writing can crush or convict, let us hope for the latter.

-MJ

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