Tuesday, April 24, 2018

The Sync

Each morning as I head to the bathroom - I give my ass a good scratch, I tuck myself, I wash my hands, and I decide. Will I lift my head and reflect? Or will I refuse introspection and bow my head and tend to my teeth.

I reflected on that this morning. I don't see myself in contemporary culture. I'm as absent as the back teeth stolen from my smile by diabetes: my place remains but the space merely marks the missing. 

I'm out of sync. I don't fit. And as I gaze into society, I don't see my beliefs reflected. I don't fit emotionally, spiritually, or ideologically. I haven't felt like this since, oh hell, high school? No. College.

In high school I didn't fit the mold of masculinity.
In the seminary I didn't fit the mold of spirituality.

But I soothed myself with the notion of subsets. I was confined in a subculture of anachronism. And I dreamt of a bigger set. I envisioned inclusion in a global catholicism. So I remained set in my ways; my beliefs set in a stone: solid, spherical, secured.

I remain in a subset. I don't feel unfit. I just feel alone.