While You Were Sleeping

There are twenty-three minutes left of July 22nd, 2014 as I begin to write this post. Never mind, twenty-two minutes. I sit in an overdecorated living room in the house we're staying in, with a single lamp fighting back the darkness. Long story short: it's nighttime, y'all. And pretty damn late at night, too.

I've always had a sort of undiagnosed syndrome of quirks and hitches that manage to distinguish me from others, but also provide a lot of difficulty. The fidgeting and pacing while others sit still. The construction of mountains of distress from emotional molehills. Inconsistent ability to communicate with others. And last but not least, the many nights spent in high function, which you can imagine is the reason I am straining myself putting this new post up so late at night.

Now, mind you, I understand that many other youth above and below my age also dapple in nocturnal life their own way, particularly when some sort of social activity is in the mix. Darkness truly does not exist in their nights, chased away by bright lights and loud conversation that break the silence of the evening. I could satirize the nature of teenage obsession with neon and strobe, as well as the remedial bass-driven noise that they feast upon, and how they are the bread and wine of their idiot's communion, and how fast the sense of judgment and brain cells deplete...

But I've never been a part of that crowd, and I ain't here tonight to try and make sense of that bullshit (believe me, I've tried before). I know that for me, the night is a time where every thought and every action crashes to my brain at once. My willpower demands that I rest, but my body continues its Asperger-esque fidgeting and my mind works at an extra-high rate to process the information overload it has obtained. Oftentimes, I feel like something I've deferred needs to be finished immediately, which is possibly just a miniature PTSD that comes only from heavy amounts of schoolwork. But right now, I cannot put to waste any thoughts that my brain processes at this late hour, so I am going to keep functioning and delve into my psyche for your viewing pleasure.

At this time, I normally think back to all the interactions I subjected my introverted ass to during the day. Were they good or bad? Did they deviate from normal patterns? What sort of dumb shit did I do this time?
This previous day seemed to be more minimal. For the second straight day, I slept through breakfast, and eventually became the only person left in the house as everyone else ventured out to do fun, stereotypical beach crap. I value those moments of isolation, where I don't have to waste any sort of energy on others and can find quiet to reflect, which is often why try to get moments like these while everyone else sleeps at night. During this time, an old friend whom I hadn't seen in years messaged me, and we spent a lot of time trying to catch up. It brought the past individual I was back to me in a swift wave, and I saw how different I have become. Of course, the rest of the crowd returned, so I was forced to be social once again [groans], and I spent a lot of time dealing with arbitrary issues in my head that I seem to have with people in general. Mission complete.

I think about Jesus. Kind of in the cheesy Christian way that you'll see most people claiming to embody. How He has carried me through these small issues I face, and how far He could take me into the future. I don't always make a clear chain of reasoning out of these individual thoughts, but at least I did something. The question that keeps recurring in my head whenever I bring those thoughts to the blog is "why do I kinda want to throw up every time other people try and talk about Jesus in the same corny way?" Appreciating other people's faith remains a struggle for me, even when I find others who are just as curmudgeonly as myself while retaining the same enthusiasm I am capable of expressing. Weird, I know, but I'll answer it some other time.

I think about the work I still have to do. Particularly the schoolwork. In other words, OH SHIT I'VE STILL GOT TO READ TWO BOOKS AND FINISH THAT PACKET ON THE CONSTITUTION OH LAWDHAVEMERCY.

Lastly, I think about the future. More specifically, I comically alternate between excitement and dread about what lies ahead. Holy hell, finishing high school/college/starting a new life! In times where I am exhausted by the present and feel that I am not fully in place, I don't really care about what lies ahead, just get me over, dear Lord. Maybe a greater degree of freedom sounds good to me. Maybe I crave isolation. No, scratch that, I definitely crave isolation. But I also fear the loose ends that I haven't tied up, whether it be dreams I want to accomplish and relationships with others that I feel are waning. This is where I start to get kinda adolescent-bitchy. This is where I try to make plans to execute, but there's no way in Hell that they could follow through. Lest we forget the occasional fear of getting a terminal illness or dream-ending injury that could screw things up for me (things which I feel very susceptible to given the poor diet and fitness doctrine I keep my body on).

But even as this shit keeps coming at me, the only thing I can do is keep going. Good Lord, I can't sit down, I can't rest, 'cuz I know I'm going somewhere. Freddie Mercury said it best: "Don't stop me now, cuz I'm having a good time." There's some spirit in me that makes me the crazy damn soul I am, and I gotta let it keep me moving. I've come to believe that what makes a human most fit for heaven is the resilience and maturity he or she obtains through trial and tribulation. Even though my brain is turned up to eleven and I'm trying to visualize the time around me, the only thing that can truly make those visions true are my eyes and ears.

Okay, I'm probably going to wake up this morning very late again, and I'm probably going to be unwilling to have breakfast again or do anything, so I should probably crash. It'll probably be at a more reasonable hour that you are reading this, so... hopefully I've said something noteworthy. Maybe I'll do something more notable on another post.

Extremely-gorram-early-in-the-Mornin' Hays, signing off.

Live From St. George!

Oh, dear, I'm far too exhausted for my own good. Pooped. Tired. Running on empty. Unpredictably cantankerous. Truly, this is a heavenly fatigue. If only there was a medium which I could express this exhaustion in front of a large crowd.

That's right! There is!

So, anyway, I'm pretty damn worn out from these past two months. Since school let out, I've traveled through or to 10 different US states and the District of Columbia, rode in countless different means of public transportation, and done waaaaaay too much walking in the heat. And that doesn't even begin to describe what I did when I wasn't moving (but don't worry, I'll get to that later). Oh, and there's the fact that I'm less than a month from beginning my final year of high school. But I'm finally still and calm, here and now.

As I write this, I am sitting on a porch overlooking Apalachicola Bay at night. The buildings on the other side of the water are illuminated, the air is crisp, and a chorus of crickets trying to get laid is chirping. This is a level of tranquility which is hard to obtain living in suburbo-rural South Carolina, and an atmosphere that allows me to think clearly. At least when I'm not thinking about the fact all these crickets out here are trying to get other crickets into their pants. Their... cricket-y... pants.

Anyway, moving on from the insect porn, I've got a lot to think about. First, we took Manhattan (I've always wanted to say that) looking for Jesus. Then I went to camp up at Clemson to get my brain flowing and make some music (which you can listen to at this link). Then I rode the train up to the City of Brotherly Love for mission and fellowship with 1000+ Episcopalians at EYE '14. That was all fine and dandy, but after being active for so long, it's time to decompress. I've always used this blog to get my thoughts free and flowing, and the environment around me is a great setting to forget the distractions that this world presents. (Author's note: before starting the previous sentence, I spent three minutes on an unsuccessful mission to capture a frog that ventured onto the porch).

Now, I've already mentioned looking for Jesus in New York, but, let's face it, spirituality has always been a pursuit of mine ever since I stopped complaining about my momma haulin' my ass to church every Sunday. This remains a pursuit here on this quaint little island off the Florida Panhandle. The most frequent sightings of the Lord's presence seem to be in whatever place is quiet; this is definitely a justified account, as I wouldn't be writing this if I didn't hear His voice out by these waters. High elevations, whether in the mountains or on the Empire State Building observation deck, also can get the spirit moving, particularly considering the idea of being a few literal feet closer to heaven. I could talk about those two locations in great extent, but so could a lot of other people. Therefore, I'll put the mountains and silence on the backburner and talk in brief about my new spiritual companion.

Flat Jesus.

He's a little laminated version of our savior that I got at EYE and now carry around (especially for downright glorious photo-ops like the one above). I first thought of It as a silly little knick-knack to carry around, but I've begun to think that he captures a bit of ministry that few ever think of. It manages to be completely irreverent as well as completely a living icon of the Lord. Now, to be clear, I mostly carry it around for irreverent use (see above photo), but I've found that a meager bit of irreverence is actually praise in disguise. Think about it: to have been present with humanity as an individual, Jesus humbled himself to a very far extent. We talk a lot about how fully divine He is, but the holy paradox exists in the fact that He was fully human as well. So, even while being present as a heavenly force and spirit, He also was just an average dude sneaking into our everyday lives.

Wait, say that last part again?

Sneaking into our every day lives.

Yeah, coming full circle now! Remember what I was saying about pursuing spirituality every day? Well, that's kinda what He did down on Earth, being a living vessel of God. So, He's just as much present in the crass humor involving Him as the fervent (and sometimes a little obnoxious) praise of Him. So maybe taking a picture of His goofy caricature at some tourist trap is a way that He sneaks into our lives when we least expect it. Oh, that little jokester.

In light of this, I suggest that everyone else chasing the Spirit need not overthink it. Even finding time to acknowledge Him with a hammy cutout is finding time to acknowledge Him. I suggest that looking at Christ with irreverent humor, while not always fit to use in excess, should also be considered a form of intentional worship and acknowledgement of the Lord. Hey, if you can focus on Him after implying cricket sex, there's plenty of time and ways to focus on the Spirit.

So, let's not strain ourselves searching for spirituality. To my brothers of other religions, I say that I believe in a universal over-soul that unites all who believe in some sort of spiritual being, and I think that anyone can feel this force. Even atheists whose beliefs lie in science (which I of course have a strong obsession with, as well) cannot deny the existence of a universal force that seems to power the function of all the universe's processes. We can each find ways to live a life in spirit, and we can be one in our individual lives.

That's just tonight's thoughts on the Spirit. There should be more to come on it in the near future, with utmost crass humor and irreverence. Here's to the heavenly rest yet to come, for me and all of us.

Blessed are the cheesemakers.

Mornin' Hays, signing off.