Have a listen.
“I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here.” Radiohead. “Creep.” Pablo Honey. Parlophone Records Ltd, 1993.
I am not a good man. I want to have control.
Who I am is unarguably just a result of circumstance and consequence. Some might be so inclined as to attribute every action and reaction to a divine plan of sorts, and while I do align with that camp for the most part, there are just some days where I’m simply in love with the idea of life in un-compromised chaos.
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I want a perfect body.
Call it conditioning… call it brainwashing… call it whatever you want, the reality is that I have desires. When I say that I want a perfect body, I’m of course speaking in the figurative sense in relation to my worldly existence. Should I be concerned that my mind has been exposed to and poisoned by the — for lack of a more appropriate word — “secular” world in my 26 years of life? Is who I am as a person something to be ashamed of? Or rather, should my thoughts, my actions and everything in-between be applauded solely for the fact that it has led me to the pursuit of desire, that to which may occasionally miss the mark? Should that matter?
As much as it pains me to say, I am not a naturally compassionate person. In any given situation I find myself internally fighting my natural inclination, which is more often than not what most of us in the community would consider “bad” behaviour. And so, I am a bad man, fighting his nature. So what am i doing here? I don’t belong.
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I want a perfect soul. It’s what I choose to strive for.
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God is un-compromised chaos, and He’s in control.
Jesse R.
“I Am, and We are Missionaries”