It's 1:53am and i'm gonna pee my pants.

now listening to: nothing.

so... here am i... life is droning past me like a hive full of mindless worker bees.
i look to the left and say to Robe, "You found purpose yet?"
i'm referring to the night last week when i walked out to the parking and found Robe and Randy in the middle of the night on the back of Randy's pickup truck with random whisps of cigarette smoke floating in the air.
"whataya guys talking about?" i wonder
"Just how there seems to be not purpose in our lives," Randy admits.
Damnit... i've already realized two weeks ago, when my girlfriend left for home, that my life is purposeless. i'm already depressed. i don't want to think about this.
We talk about how we don't know what we're not doing-- how we don't know what the full-lived life looks like for us. Right here, right now, in Anderson, IN. A town of a dying economy. A town full of drugs, unemployment, and racial ignorance.
i work at a gas station. i see the same 200 people every night. They are lost for the most part, but they have more purpose than me. Sad.
i'm starting to wonder who the Jesus is i'm following.
This is my oppurtunity for ministry. i realize that. But, what do i do? Smile more? Hand back change faster? Clean the windows twice instead of once? Say wise things? Buy more people packs of cigarettes?
--(someone just walked in the room.)
Hmmm... great. A mild interruption. My train of thought is dead now.

i'll let you know when i find purpose.

shalom.

free-write rhyme.

i think. i blink. didn't take a shower today, so i stink. starbucks frappacino, probably the biggest size, sitting in my vision. to the left is a heap of garbage collision. i don't know what to write, cuz i just worked all night and got done riding my bike. clocking in and out, like i'm clocking throught a turn-pike. losing sleep like a bad game of poker. when people start laughing, i realize i'm the joker. this life that i'm living, was easily confused with grace given. what would stalone's character do in the movie "driven"? my girlfriend's going to france, i don't own a clean pair of pants. i'm broke 5 broke, cuz i ain't got it. i'm rhymin' random idea just after i jot it. i ate my 50 cent pie, just after i bought it. my tee's i dot, and my eye- i cross it. i don't got a nice car. and my bike don't floss it. holly gave me some pizza for free. i don't know what was in it, but tasted aight to me. someone told me A-town used to be the city of trees. i hurt my knees. i'll stop being random, and not say words like, "tandom". i wanna write, but not enough time. i wanna make songs, but not enough rhyme. i wanna lead, but i'm the blind leading the blind. it all made sense a long time when. i can't find the answer and either can my friends. dull, boring, and maybe apathetic. when people hear the truth, they just reject it. be like wyclef and make truth eclectic. or let my love slide like it was electric. look back at life, and it looks so blurry. my life is a joke, just like bill murray. i had some chips tonight that were spicy like curry. i had a lost customers who bring out my fury. i don't know what this is about, but that's the end of the stury.

shalom.

i have spent.

Now listening to: Gym Class Heroes

Sweaty, sweaty, sweaty, as i sit here in a 90 degree room. Why am i here? What am i doing?

If i would've looked to this day 5 years back, i would've had no idea that my life now would be this. i live in an old, rundown school building on the west side of a city labeled as a "dying town" by The New York Times. i am a college graduate, with a motivation to never make an ounce of my life revolve around money, yet owe 30,000 dollars worth of loans-- walking contradiction.

i have spent. the last 2 months of my life looking for my "career", which has been a gas station attendant position on the drug-ridden side of town. The kids are hassling me at the wee hours of the morning for a pack of cigarettes or a cheap phillie blunt, and i keep refusing them for the sake of my job and their future. They have no where else to go. This is their "hot spot". They come to hear me say, "The worth of one's soul is not measured by the blingin' of ones sneaks," and other such subliminal sentences. When i look at the dirt covering their clothes and hands, i know, i know that this is the best place for them to go. i wish i could cry for them. TeeJay is the oldest black man i've ever seen rollin' in chains and fresh, iced-out watches. Robot meets gansta is the most feasible way to describe the verbal communication that comes from between his teeth. Mr. Steele comes around 4 a.m. talking about his latest gambling endeavors, germaphobias, and disbeliefs in the Bible and the emmaculate conception. i spit the truth and love whenever i can notice the chance (only if i could notice more chances).

i have spent. the past 3 months in an "intership", which means a bunch of smokers coming together 3 times a week to talk about religion and "community" (what an evil word to my ears now) and about generalizations of others (which are truly about ourselves).

i have spent. the past 1/2 year poorly pursuing a beautiful, young lady, with whom i hide the knots in my stomachs that desire to run around the world, screaming how much i love her.

i have spent. the past year, regret every close friend i've forgotten to call. The time simply passes by more and more, yet i still don't let the weight of the importance of one phone call even rest on my shoulders.

i have spent. the past 3 years fighting apathy with my mind and not with my actions.

i have spent. the past 5 years wondering how God will change the world with my poorly obedient life.

i have spent. the past 13 years asking God to end my life, contemplating if there's anyone in the world who cares, and searching for the hope that God will kill the lies Satan has grown in me.

i have spent. the past 17 years regretting all the decisions i would make in the present situation and pondering, "What if..."

i have spent. the past 22 years, 31 days, 12 hours, and 8 minutes of my life estastically accepting that my life has been graciously blessed by my Creator, for a reason i can only suspect to be-- Love, and then searching my self entirely for the way to fully accept that love from the One who desires for me to accept it.

i have spent.

shalom.