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It's 3:15 AM. I am wide awake. My eyes burn. They burn, not with weariness. They burn with anguish and anger.
A contempt for humanity whispers in my ear, and the words I hear, I know not how to defend against or even attempt to respond to any more. With what words shall I express my vexation? Tell it not, for the tale would never be fully heard, would it?
I am writing this blog, not for comfort, consolation, or even response of any kind. Read as you will, and do what you desire. I write not for you, but for myself for once. I am fully enraged. I am incensed to a level that I have not known in some time. If you see me, you will not see it. If you hear me, you will not hear it. But now, if you read me, you will read it. The outrage the overtook Moses, driving him to slay the Egyptian, has overtaken me, but I strive to be constructive, yet every breath I breathe only fuels the fire and fans the flames.
My cry, my inquiry, my agony breathes forth, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?"
You know who you are. Actually, you don't. And you never will. If what I say has no bearing upon you, then disregard it. If it does, you've probably already disregarded it. Hence, my treatise here is truly non-effectual for anyone but myself.
You do not know me. Perhaps you never have. Perhaps you never will. In your foolishness, you think you do. You think you understand everyone. You think you are a capable judge of all mankind. You think your perceptive ability is elevated to a level upon which you are a rightful arbiter of the skills, talents, propensities, and responsibilities of others. You are not. I repeat, YOU ARE NOT! Who do you believe yourself to be that you would presume to attack a wandering soul because you feel that this soul should not be or could not possibly be wandering. If the sign says, "Keep off the grass," but I don't speak English, how helpful is your criticism for my inability to follow simple signs? Who made you a judge and a ruler over mankind? Rather than inspiring a new level of greatness, you destroy what little foundation I have left. Your calloused judgments drive the rest of us to embrace our own failure and only look to more of it.
You have set standards for the rest of the inhabitants of this world that align to such a narrow worldview that none of us can ever measure up in your eyes, and yet you are too blind to see this. How am I deserving of being beaten with many stripes when I do not share your standards, your values, or your convictions? And if I have erred, strike me not in vengeance and rage. Guide me. Lead me. Instruct me. Inspire me!
If I am unaware, kindly make me aware. If I am aware, lend a hand!
Fool, you are. You have always wanted others to be understanding of you, and yet you have not for a moment turned to lend the understanding you so greatly stand in need of to any other human being who may also be in need. You withhold from others the patience that you have required for the duration of your entire life. May God Almighty do also unto you. Are you so blindly selfish that you cannot comprehend that everyone else on this planet is struggling just as you?
Why must you elevate me to a place that I have not attained? Why must you place me upon this pedestal? Why must you require of me a standard that you think I should attain, and that perhaps I could attain were I where you think I am? I am not there! You do not know me.
The insane thing about it is that you feel exactly what I write presently, as if it were you that were being oppressed, and you still haven't realized that YOU ARE an oppressor! Humanity, I speak of thee! So motivated by selfishness, so blind to your fellow-suffers!
I am not a saint. I am not an angel. I am not your example. I am a sinner saved by grace.
I am not who you think I am. I am not where you think I am. I cannot do what you think I should.
You think I am a pillar. You think I am a standard. You see something great in your mind, but you do not see the reality I live. You do not see my heart, so torn. You do not see my mind, so sullied. Perhaps I am a pillar, but not one that stands tall. I am The Fallen Caryatid from Rodin's "The Gates of Hell." The weight of the expectations you have laid upon me have crushed me. It is because of people like you that people like me lose hope. Could you but season your bitter words with love, you might inspire excellence. But you never thought of that. And you won't. You can't. All you see is what's supposed to be. You don't see me. You can't.
I'm sorry to disappoint you. I tried to tell you before. You didn't listen then either.
My patience for the blind ineptitude and foolish expectations of the imbeciles with whom I share the planet has reached its supreme exhaustion.
Earth, I report. I'm out. Seriously. I can't deal with you. I do not plan to be heard from until my blinding pain and grotesque anger at your rancid ways has sufficiently abated for me to return to being part of the solution.
Imagine yourself, on a Friday night, walking up to church. Someone mentioned there was a special vespers service going on. You make your way inside, and open the door to the sanctuary. You gaze towards the front and see some kind of video being projected on the wall. You look again, and it seems to be some animated film. Then it dawns on you....this is a scene from "Despicable Me." You probably found the film to be amusing when your first saw it, but now you're in church on a Friday night. That just happened.
I must admit I was greatly shocked. I began this vast internal conflict. Was this the right place? Yes, this was the right place. Could it possibly be, say, a Thursday night instead of being Friday night? No, indeed it is Friday. Then why are we watching Despicable Me? After a moment, the clip ended, and some blurb about following a bunch of rules came up, then something about the Sabbath not just being some rule...
What?
Really?
Is this what we do now? We play random, secular clips in CHURCH on SABBATH and try to pull some spiritual lessons out of it? Is it because the simple, plain truths of the Bible don't engage our minds that we turn to the stars of the screen to point us in the right direction since they hold our attention? Mercy. Only one word come to mind. Profane. And it seems to come to mind with greater frequency.
Profane.
Just last week, while in Alabama, I attended Sabbath School--something that I rarely do. I was sitting, attempting to listen to the teacher as she went through her thoughts on the lesson (which reminded me why I really don't dig Sabbath School much). In a few moments I heard a distinct sound coming from behind me. In the row directly behind me, some young adults were talking. And when I say talking, I mean TALKING, not whispering, not muttering, but a full blown, proper sort of talking that you do when there is absolutely nothing of importance going on around you. I thought to myself, "Give them a minute. They'll finish." After a few minutes, I realized this was not just an exchange. This was a conversation. I gave a few more moments as my indignation burned within me. After 10 minutes, I could no longer hold my peace. I turned around and said to them directly, "Do you mind talking your conversation somewhere else? I'm trying to listen." The guy says, "Sorry." But get this....the girl looks at me like I'M the one at fault with this expression that said, "If you're trying to listen, you should go somewhere else."
These things seem to happen more! I listen to the pure cacophony of sound that fills sanctuaries between Sabbath School and the Divine Service. I behold the frustration as leaders attempt to quell the masses in order to BEGIN the service. I watch after church, and children run through the sanctuary as if it is their personal playground...running, shouting, walking on and jumping over the pews. I hold my peace, I know not how.
What is wrong with our churches? What is wrong with us? Am I just showing up to the wrong places at the wrong times, or have you beheld the same? Does it vex you? What have you done? What can you do? What will you do?
I commented to a friend last night that a famine is coming...not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the LORD (Amos 8:11). This must be the famine. The result of the famine is always hunger, but how much longer, brothers and sisters, must this famine continue before we fully hunger and thirst after righteousness? What has happened to us? Why have we not hungered more? I speak as one guilty.
How long, oh Lord, how long?
Though it were but a few moments ago, a most phenomenal, unprecedented event has just transpired. I report. On today, Thursday, September 16th, in the year of our Lord, AD 2010, I, Benjamin Alan Middleton, consumed three (3) meals in a period of less than 24 hours. Mark it on your calendars, save it in your palm pilots, blackberries, iPhones, and other random devices. In 20-30 years, your kids will want to know where you were and what you were doing when this happened. And you can give them the inside scoop...
(Inside Scoop)
I awakened this morning with a strange thought. What if I ate? It was odd because I had the same thought yesterday morning. I even tried it, just to see if it was a worthwhile endeavor. I concluded it wasn't because it had no apparent, measurable effect on my day. But, I figured I had nothing to lose, and the oatmeal in my pantry was just going to waste anyhow, so I ate before I went to work. Midway though the day, I had another strange thought....why not eat again? Now this was purely insane. Eating twice before a day was anywhere near over? Well, why not. Worth a try, yes? And off I went, apprehending a second meal. Just a short while ago I entered my abode and was startlingly hit by the same thought, for an unprecedented THIRD time! And I ate...again.
For those of you who do not believe me, I do have a witness, Calvin Chuang, who was not only present to observe all three periods of eating, but probably had something to do with putting the thought in my mind. BLASTED INCEPTION!
(The Worst Part)
Now I'm having these strange thoughts about going to sleep. I have no idea what to do with myself anymore. How does that work?
It's like
having a disease, or thinking you have one, but you're not sure, and if you are sure, perhaps just not knowing if there's a cure.
Like a child, perchance, sick with the plague, grasping at the air, in need of something, but unable to find it anywhere.
Like there's an enchantment that keeps them in the safe place to be, yet some few souls are drawn in, thinking they have the remedy
It's like
having a dream you know is a dream, but it's too real for you to wake, or it IS real, but how it feels, and smells, and tastes, you think it's fake.
Like a tear you cry, but not sure why. Are you joyous? Are you blue? Emotions lie, or at least they try. But do you know what's true?
Like a laugh, light upon your lips, but without cause or provocation; you think to laugh, not knowing why. And now the hesitation.
It's like
having eternity seated upon your shoulders, awaiting your command to move ahead and summon worlds you cannot even understand.
Like a future, full of light, and life, with-child now, and to give birth, and you can give the final push, to change the course of all on earth.
Like a past you can't forget, a sun that sinks but never seems to set, with its faint rays still shining back all the joy and deep regret.
It's war.
It's peace.
It's night.
It's day.
It's every rise and fall.
It's all of this, but no, it's not. It's none of this at all.
It has been an excessive amount of time since I've blogged here, and thus my return will be properly random.
Losers.
People are losers. Have you noticed? It's not their fault, perhaps. It must be in their blood or something. Before you haste to object with the retort that The Middleton is a human and thus a loser as well, trust me, I thought of that and have already embraced it. The fact that you wanted to make sure that I knew I'm a loser makes you more of a loser.
Language.
Have you noticed how the things that people say make absolutely no sense, and yet these things are randomly adopted into full usage by the masses. My conclusion: Grammar will be extinct in the next century. It's presently endangered, and certainly by reason of one factor....TEXT MESSAGING. Texting is a scourge to the English language. The language is utterly slaughtered daily by texts. I speak as one guilty. I am guilty of the following offenses: sux, yeh, tht, hav, u, hbu, and a few others on a regular basis. The sad thing is, as I mentioned before, texting affects speaking, and now people say this:
"I know, right?!"
What does that even mean? It's like a declaration of personal understanding followed by an inquiry as to whether the said declaration is true, and the MEANING of this is attempting to convey, "You are correct." Come on people, is this the best we can do to affirm understanding?
Example:
Me: "What's with everyone saying, 'I know, right?!' all the time? What does that even mean?"
(friend): "I know, right?!"
Yes. True story.
Travel.
I just set a new personal record for travel. Over 3,600 miles driven in 4 consecutive weekends. Most recently I was in Alabama doing sales after Pastor David Asscherick spoke at Madison Mission Church. 1,200 mile roundtrip. It was well worth it though.
- I finally saw, with my own eyes, the hall on Oakwood University's campus named after my great-grandfather, Otis Bernard Edwards Sr. Awesome feeling of wonder at the great things my forefathers accomplished.
- I saw Lilena Walker, whom I had not seen in 2 years--back in the days we both lived in Ohio. It was like a mini-New-Life-reunion. We've just got to crank that Lion King again.
- I met Michaelle Alexandra, after so long a time. I'd seen her enough times, and spoken of her (and the family) with mutual friends enough times, there was this strange, slight familiarity that I don't often have with people I've never met. And, I am still indebted to you, Micky, for your help. Thank you.
- I hunted down Victor Walker. Tell me how I could be in the same vicinity as you, and your slothful self would hibernate throughout my visit? But I got you, I did. I saw that Lincoln, with the Ohio plates, and the "Turbo" magnet on the back. There's only one of those in the US of A.
- I also got to see Sarina Goulding, whom I had not seen in over a year--back in my West Virginia days. The air-bass is still killing me. Stay well, yes, please?
Sanity.
I'm not sure I have any left. It might be overrated anyway. Is anyone feeling me on this point? Is it just me, or is someone else on a quest for normalcy, which seems futile at times? Then I start thinking, if your existence is defined by its lack or normalcy, wouldn't the lack of normalcy become normalcy because it's the norm?
Sleep.
Do people do that anymore? I'm not sure if I am in tune with the general population, but it seems the people that I talk to either can't sleep even though they want to, or they don't sleep for any number of reasons, or both of these, or some other random reason. Tell me please.
Peace out.
This is the part where I leave.