The Middleton

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.

As a cacophony of thoughts rage through my mind, I skeptically seek a measure solace by attempting their utterance forthwith.

Yesterday someone told me that the recently popular song, "Break Your Heart," by Taio Cruz is "my song." That is to say, it is the song that best describes me. The implication being I am a heart breaker. I was initially somewhat taken aback by this, as I've never worn such a label before. Then I thought through life, and indeed, I have broken a number of hearts. As I consider those instances, a startling common denominator emerged.

In almost every case, the reason I broke someone's heart was because I was concerned about doing what was right--doing God's will as He revealed it to me. Then I questioned, is right-doing is most often the cause of immediate pain and suffering? The more I consider it, the more I begin to think so. Interestingly enough, in the times when I have been most concerned about doing what is right, I have broken the most hearts, while alternatively, when I am least concerned about right-doing, few if any broken hearts fall in my wake. Am I to conclude the more care I take, the more hearts I break? It would appear so.

As I am now only consciously considering this, I turn to look at the past few weeks of my life to discover that my subconscious mind has already considered it and taken a "remedial" course of action. I find myself caring less, restraining myself less, and consequently breaking hearts less. Problem solved?

No.

While it would appear that everyone is happy now, appearances are deceitful. The conscience remains active and vocal. I attempt to silence it with arguments, but it will not be hushed. The voice that speaks within me asks me who I am. Since when have I been one to travel the course of least resistance? Since when has apathy been a foundational element of my life's philosophy? Never. So why now?

Am I truly happy?

I don't know. I try to reconcile doing what's right and hurting others, or not caring, and everyone being happy, and ask myself what the responsible thing to do is. No answer comes. What say you?