I have been reading some Allen Ginsberg. While I may not agree with a few of his belifs and life practices (homosexuality, NAMBLA, Buddhism, etc.) I can appreciate his respect for humanity and his willingness to say that the world in which we live is not perfect.

There are parts of me that are cynical and revolutionary but those are not qualities that I believe I have. I call myself a Levitical Socialist, but in reality, I am a Christian and the activism, intelligence, thoughts, and musings flow from my Christianity like rhymes from Chuck D. The sinful nature that I must constantly guard against is merely my body's opposing reaction to the things that flow from me. Outwardly I become an activist, inwardly I become less and less hopeful about something actually happening. Inwardly my relationship with God grows, outwardly my relationships with others diminish.

I really despise my sinful nature, perhaps that was the thorn Paul always talked about, although I always thought it was homosexuality, but that's another debate for another day. The things that I do always feel as if they have an undertone of sinfulness.

Put this into your hookah and puff on it:
A few weeks ago we helped with set up for church. After set up there was time for breakfast, so the community group decided to go out to the IHOP within walking distance. There were some other people that helped and I invited them to come with us. One of the guys said he would go. I liked this guy, even though he was the antithesis of what I am on the outside (he is an extroverted black guy, nuff said) I know that God brought me to him and vice versa because our past experiences and current employment status places us much closer than I would have thought. We talked for awhile, but we only hinted at things below the surface. After church I asked him how I could pray for him, which was, to say the least, not something I do. Ever. But I had to, no questons.

We talked for a few seconds and then I bolted. The next week I found him again after church and asked him about his week and we did the "how can I pray for you" bit again and made some spiritual small talk before I went back to rescue Kimmy from a conversation.

Both times, before approaching him, I have had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that he is going to look at me as some stupid white boy patronizing and trying to look down on him, or act superior or laugh at my introverted self or think I am just trying to create a token friendship because of the difficulties I have in starting conversations and my comfort in silence.

This is the part of me I despise. The part of me that says something is wrong because of the social norms and mores that it breaks down. Or the part of me that says it's wrong because of the loss of comfort it brings upon me, or the guilt for being a white yuppie male with a white collar job, or everything else that exists because of the sinful nature of humanity. I hate beyond hate the fact that I cannot do the things I want to do or know that I should do because of a lack of testicular fortitude or a plethora of logical thought.

I do not have the guts to do many things that I would like to do, but I can do more than I could a year ago. I will leave you with an ode:

Progress is slow
frustration is high
hope is receeding
anger is manifest

manifest in ways the tongue cannot say
only a feeling as it sticks to the roof of the mouth
teeth grinding

this prison is an abode, comfortable
monkey on the shoulder clawing and screeching
drop the chain

without the chain what would i hold
a vast feeling of emptiness, despair, c'est un baobab
visceral bruises

destroy the planet, destroy the baobab,
prince major tom is in a tin can, searching for life
more abundant

the dolphin cries, the deer pants for
water in streams, life has been found
hope

with feathers