The Enlightened 1

When all else fails simply grasp the pen and create life. Thus begins a stream of consciousness, a running brook of thoughts; emotional thoughts anchored in the cerebral by a pier of reason and a chain of despair. What really am I typing? What really will be the outcome? A visceral accomplishment or simply an ink-stained illusion that can be twisted and turned by the optical until its spirit is etched in the mind and resurfaces in the deepest of dream-sleep. In the lonliest of moments it encircles the throat, pressurizing the adam's apple into the sweetest pulp as the juices are drained away even as the breath of life slips silently away. Metaphors to describe what? Similies like paintbrushes in the hands of an old blinded artist, depicting life as seen only in the first four years of life. Forever painting innocence as seen through the eyes of children, even as the bones grow brittle from the hammerings of life and the breath shortens from the strain of inhaling foul air. Alone or...

In the span of infancy until the fading of one’s last breath, transformations descend that alter life. It seems that all men witness with bloodshot eyes that proverbial “waking one morning” to realize that their life has grabbed hold of the wheel of their existence and taken joy rides through alleys and other unkindly corridors. Oh how the heart cringes after traversing those paths again in one’s mind and seeing how far the main road has eluded us. To look back and dream is all a dream; a day-mare that cannot be shut off with the pupils or the cold grasp wrenched from the soul. It’s still amazing to be responsible for responsibility. When the show is over and you surround yourself with the thoughts of who you are and what you do, the seriousness of your life crawls from your lumbering feet to rest securely on your shoulders, breathing heavily on the back of your neck as its spirit whispers in your ear. You wonder where the time went. How long have you been in a potent daze and the plan...

Infinity. The creation of life. The constant and consistent rotation of heavenly bodies around a central, blazing star. The transformation of a wriggly, skinny caterpillar into a flying wonder that only lives for a day. The Creator set forth a vast invisible machinery that continues its relentless accuracy millions of years later. In this vastness He placed us and gave us dominion over His precious creations; stewards of the highest calling, protectors of the noblest pursuits and benefactors of enormous blessings. His wisdom bestowed us the ability to reason and ponder; to ruminate on the greatness of His power and the choice to discover the door to His glorious bounty. But of the intracacies of medicine, to the elements of physics, still beyond the development of language is the mystery of what women want. For centuries the male species has drunk from that Pyreian spring for a simple glimpse of the a clue. As a young black male in 2005, its hard and very sad to admit that the prospect...