As futile as my present state appears, I believe its recent turn of events is the sign of my personal life's improving outlook. That delightful but not certain eventuality is the kind of altercation I've been praying for. It does not, however, spell the end to my family's incessantly destructive habits, nor will it spell any major adjustments in my parents' attitude toward me.
My father, a caring man at times, continues to bloviate and bluster in a wall vibrating and ear clasping volume. Just tonight, I had another altercation with madness. I had been doing my wash all week and apparently used all the bleach alternative, generic brand, while neglecting to remember to purchase a replacement box. An astute eye might take a second glance at that post, posing the query, “Why would a young man, nearing 23 years old, who is doing his own wash, through his own prerogative, encounter a harsh altercation for the mere use of a household cleaning product? Additionally, when the neglect was an honest mistake?” Sadly, I must agree with the analysis, it does leave open for speculation a vast assortment of reasoning, most of which would seem lacking in my situation. Sadly, the real reason that my father generally exchanges harsh words with me is fare more mundane: I do not meet his expectations and continually fail to measure up. I am a flawed individual, lacking at time moral integrity, and proliferate an exceptional strain of arrogance as a partial defense mechanism.
It is a sad sorted state of affairs I engender. I wish for once, we could exchange friendly words where the goal was to create a more positive outlook on life, but perhaps I'm asking too much of myself and him. We are blissfully ignorant mortals, transfixed upon the flaws of our brethren and not upon our own, twisted souls, gnarled by sin and the harsh quarters life dispenses.
When we are not hurling harsh terms about, we live a relatively mild and mundane life, one that transfixes between the extremes of natural and unnatural chaos and calamity, or the simple boredom that sets in between maelstroms. This short peace, is the only alleviation before another storm of overwhelming stress confronts our defenses.
But why am I complaining? I still possess my health, relatively speaking; my weight is a problem, but one that I hope to solve sooner rather than later. My youth, predictably in body is still with me, but I cannot say the same for mind. Age is a speculative and ambiguous term, because what kind of time are you talking about? Do we mean the age of my body, my life experiences, or my spiritual growth? If it's the first, yes I am young, two tends towards dust, while three is maturing but still immature.
Looking forward I guess my life harbors stressful memories of my past; injustices conspired and attributed, false claims made, and punishments dealt out to the deserving and innocent. All in a mere 22 year old skin. But what am I alluding to with all this talk of my past a present predicament? Simply I am tired, tired and restless, hoping for a better tomorrow, while still maintaining the present sucks.
That I surmise is where the joy of my life's turn of events arises. I have the chance at a better day, a better night, while all the while, practicing for my dreams. So what do you care? Hm...that is a difficult question, but I might simply ask, then why are you reading this? Perhaps you find meaning in other people's advice, perhaps you simply read to get a good laugh at a pompous inquiry. I cannot know your purpose or justification in reading this, only what I experience living my life and writing this literary expression.
So I come to another difficult quandary: Why do I lack the motivation to improve myself, my status and position. I seem to not lack the desire on a theoretical level, but in practical application I fail miserably. I want to do better, but lack the willingness to change. I have surmised much of my father's anger and frustration comes from that fact; he wants perfection, openly admitted it, yet knows fully that perfection does not exist. I guess he must be losing track of something. What I am not exactly sure, but whatever it may be, it is important to both his and my own personal growth and development.
All I really want to do is improve my lot in life by the sheer act of trying. Not unintelligent or unplanned action, but action maintaining spontaneity with the organizational proficiency I need. Where I can propel my life is beyond my sights for the moment, however, with a little effort and well placed spiritual guidance, I pray my life will be healed and impressed with the desire, determination and drive to get it done. I have the first, a partial second and entirely lack the third. That's the “get your lazy butt out the door” attribute.
I hope I can maintain my cool and focus to find a balanced perspective, where I can see my frailties while still forcing myself, with rigorous intent, to constant improvement. Where my life is headed, nor where I actually arise are beyond my scope of reasoning, but at least I can see and believe a better tomorrow is out there if only I straighten my tie, my weaknesses and get my life going in the direction God intended. I just got to pull my shoulders square, get my head out of my posterior and get with the divine program. Now if only I could find my membership card.
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